LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
RIVERSIDE 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM  : 


OF 


PRINCIPAL  OF  SCIENCE  HILL  FEMALE  ACADEMY. 


TO  WHICH  IS  PREFIXED 


AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH  OF  REV.  JOHN  TEYIS, 


'  Here  I  '11  raise  mine  Ebenezer, 

Hither,  by  thy  help,  I  'm  come  ; 
And  I  hope,  by  thy  good  pleasure, 
Safely  to  arrive  at  home." 


CINCINNATI: 

PRINTED  AT  THE  WESTERN  METHODIST  BOOK  CONCERN. 
1878. 


T4/K3 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1878, 

BY  WILLIAM  M.  ROGERS, 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


TO 


f  tit*    , 

MY  ONLY  AND  WELL-BELOVED  DAUGHTER, 


IS  AFFECTIONATELY  DEDICATED. 


PREFACE. 


Two  considerations  have  prompted  the  prepa- 
ration of  the  following  Autobiography:  First,  the 
earnest  and  oft-repeated  request  of  my  dear  hus- 
band that  I  should  do  so;  second,  the  hope  of 
doing  good,  by  furnishing  information  and  encour- 
agement to  those  who  are  engaged,  or  are  about 
to  engage,  in  the  responsible  and  laborious  duties 
of  teaching,  especially  to  those  who  have  charge 
of  female  boarding-schools.  An  experience  of  fifty 
years  in  any  pursuit  can  not  fail  to  bring  some 
knowledge  which  a  novice  may  find  valuable.  I 
propose  no  dogmatic  theories;  but  simply  state 
facts,  and  give  my  opinion  as  suggested  by  the 
thread  of  my  narrative.  As  to  the  value  of  the 
information  thus  given,  those  will  judge  who  take 
the  trouble  to  read  what  I  have  written. 

Although  accustomed  to  use  the  pen  all  my  life, 
this  is  my  first  attempt  at  authorship.  I  have 
dressed  my  narrative,  as  I  do  my  person,  accord- 
ing to  my  own  notions  of  good  taste.  I  no  more 
affect  a  fine  style  than  a  fashionable  dress.  If  my 
language  is  intelligible  I  am  satisfied.  The  period 
is  past  when  the  flippant  criticisms  of  vanity  or  the 
idle  remarks  of  ignorance  could  give  me  real  pain. 
I  do  not  despise  the  opinions  of  the  wise  and 


2  PREFACE. 

good,  nor  do  I  covet  the  applause  of  the  frivolous 
or  hypercritical. 

My  numerous  pupils  will  doubtless  recognize 
many  scenes  and  circumstances  here  recorded.  I 
have  not  intentionally  written  one  word  which 
could  wound  the  feelings  of  the  most  sensitive. 
My  heart  glows  with  the  warmest  affection  for 
them  all,  many  of  whom  I  have  known  and  loved 
in  other  relations.  Amid  the  weary  toils  and 
perplexities  incident  to  the  management  of  a  large 
boarding-school  I  have  had  much  to  cheer  and 
comfort  me,  and  nothing  more  than  the  grateful 
affection  of  my  pupils. 

It  seemed  to  me  right  and  proper  that  the 
biography  of  my  sainted  husband  should  precede 
my  own,  not  only  because  he  has  entered  the  bet- 
ter land  before  me,  but  because  he  was  my  leader 
in  all  things  good  and  useful  for  thirty-seven  years. 
The  light  of  his  pure  and  manly  character  shone 
like  a  lamp  in  my  pathway,  cheering  with  its  bright 
and  steady  beam  the  darkest  seasons  of  our  pil- 
grimage. His  foot-prints  are  still  luminous,  light- 
ing me  onward  to  our  long-sought  home  in  heaven. 
Our  lives  were  one  in  common  hopes  and  labors, 
in  common  joys  and  sorrows,  bound  together  in 
the  blessings  of  one  home  of  love;  and  now  the 
memorials  of  these  lives,  bound  in  one  volume — he 
still  leading  the  way — will  go  forth  to  the  world. 

JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 
SCIENCE  HILL,  March,  1865. 


CONTENTS. 


$ketdl|  of  fjev.  ]o 

PAGE. 

INTRODUCTION,    .  9 

AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH, 13 

OBITUARY, 36 


MRS.  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

CHAPTER  I. 

BIRTH  AND   PARENTAGE — REMINISCENCES   OF   PIONEER  LIFE   IN 

KENTUCKY, 40 

CHAPTER  II. 
FIRST  DAYS  IN  SCHOOL,  ........      54 

CHAPTER  III. 

MR.  HILL'S  SCHOOL  AT  WINCHESTER,  VA — BERKELEY  SPRINGS — 

THE  WAR  OF  1812, 67 

CHAPTER  IV. 

REMOVAL  TO  GEORGETOWN,  D.  C. — INCIDENTS  OF  THE  WAR  OF 

1812, 81 

CHAPTER  V. 

GENERAL  SAM.  HOUSTON— COLONEL  POSEY — CAPTURE  OF  WASHING- 
TON CITY  BY  THE  BRITISH, 91 

CHAPTER  VI. 

SCHOOL  OF   Miss  TAYLOR  IN  WASHINGTON — LIFE  IN  WASHING- 
TON IN  l8lS,      .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .      IO7 

3 


4  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  VII. 

PAGE. 

THE  SCHOOL  OF  MRS.  STONE — RECOLLECTIONS  OF  HENRY  CLAY — 

JOHN  C.  CALHOUN — JOHN  RANDOLPH — WILLIAM  WIRT,       .        117 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  MASON  AND  M*CA.RTY  DUEL — MADAME  LA  COMPTESSE  DE 

NEUVILLE 130 

CHAPTER   IX. 

A  WINTER  IN  WASHINGTON  SOCIETY — MRS.  MADISON — MRS.  MON- 
ROE  139 

CHAPTER  X. 
REVERSES — LEAVE  HOME  AND  FRIENDS  FOR  WYTHEVILLE,  VA.       .    151 

CHAPTER  XI. 
SCHOOL  AT  WYTHEVILLE — THE  FAMILY  OF  GENERAL  SMYTH,      .        161 

CHAPTER  XII. 
SCHOOL-LIFE  AT  WYTHEVILLE, 175 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
SCHOOL-LIFE,  CONTINUED — FIRST  EXAMINATION,         ...        184 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

REMOVAL  TO  ABINGDON,  VA. — ENTERING  THE  FAMILY  OF  CAPTAIN 
SMITH,  OF  THE  MEADOWS,  AS  GOVERNESS — MRS.  RUSSELL,  THE 
SISTER  OF  PATRICK  HENRY, !g4 

CHAPTER  XV. 
LIFE  AND  CHARACTERS  AT  THE  MEADOWS, 203 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
ABIXGDON  FRIENDS — RELIGIOUS  IMPRESSIONS,       ....    214 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
THE  METHODISTS  AT  ABINGDON, 226 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

EARNESTNESS  AND  SIMPLICITY  OF  THE  EARLY  METHODISTS — JOINING 
THE  CHURCH, 233 


CONTENTS.  5 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

PAGE. 

CAMP-MEETING  AT  SULPHUR  SPRINGS — CONVERSION,        .        .        .    247 

CHAPTER  XX. 
MARRIAGE  TO  THE  REV.  JOHN  TEVIS 257 

CHAPTER  XXI. 
CONTINUANCE  AT  THE  MEADOWS — VISIT  TO  MOTHER  RUSSELL,     .    265 

CHAPTER  XXII. 
LEAVING  ABINGDON — JOURNEY  TO  KENTUCKY,  ....        274 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 
RETURN  TO  THE  HOME  OF  MY  CHILDHOOD, 285 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

ARRIVAL  AT  SHELBYVILLE — MEETING  OF  KENTUCKY  CONFERENCE — 

KAVANAUGH — BASCOM — MAFFIT, 297 

CHAPTER   XXV. 

MR.  TEVIS  IN  CHARGE  OF  THE  CHURCH  AT  LOUISVILLE — PREPAR- 
ATIONS FOR  SCHOOL 313 

CHAPTER   XXVI. 
SCIENCE  HILL  FEMALE  ACADEMY  FOUNDED,  MARCH  25,  1825,    .         321 

CHAPTER   XXVII. 
THE  FIRST  SESSION  AND  THE  FIRST  EXAMINATION,        .        .        .    327 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 
MANAGEMENT  OF  THE  SCHOOL— RELIGIOUS  TRAINING  OF  PUPILS,      335 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 
HON.  CHARLES  A.  WICKLIFFE — JUDGE  DAVIDGE,      ...        .        348 

CHAPTER  XXX. 

BEREAVED — CONFERENCE    OF    1828 — BISHOPS    M'KENDREE,  ROB- 
ERTS, SOULE, 355 


6  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 

PAGE. 

A  PUPIL  "OLD  ENOUGH  TO  BE  KEEPIN'  COMPANY  Now" — RE- 
FLECTIONS UPON  EARLY  TRAINING, 367 

CHAPTER  XXXII. 
AN  ADOPTED  DAUGHTER — EARLY  DISCIPLINE  OF  CHILDREN,         .    372 

CHAPTER  XXXIII. 
LANCASTRIAN  SCHOOL  AT  GEORGETOWN,  D.  C. — RITTA,         .        391 

CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

SCHOOL    FRIENDS — JUDGE   THOMAS    MONROE — REV.    VALENTINE 

COOK, 400 

CHAPTER  XXXV. 
WHAT  SHOULD  PUPILS  LEARN? — MY  MOTHER'S  DEATH,      .        .    412 

CHAPTER  XXXVI. 
A  DISAPPOINTED  Music  TEACHER — AN   ANECDOTE,        .        .         423 

CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

VISIT   TO    BLUE   LICKS— THE  BATTLE— TRIP  TO   PHILADELPHIA, 

WITH  INCIDENTS   AND   ANECDOTES 430 

CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 
THE  ROSE  QUEEN, 453 

CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

CLOSE  OF  THE  ACADEMIC  YEAR  OF  1839 — A  TRIP  TO  THE  MOUNT- 
AINS OF  VIRGINIA — THOUGHTS  UPON  TEACHERS  AND  TEACH- 
ING— AN  EXEMPLARY  TEACHER, •  460 

CHAPTER'  XL. 
PLEASANT  MEMORIES — AMANDA  AND  OTHERS,    .        .        .        .         471 

CHAPTER  XLI. 
CLOSING  REFLECTIONS — THE  SEMI-CENTENNIAL,     ....     479 


AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH 


f{ev. 


OF  THE   KENTUCKY  CONFERENCE. 


"But  God  fordid  that  I  should  glory,  save  in  the  cross  of 
our  Lord  Jestts  Christ." — Paul. 


INTRODUCTION. 


THE  following  Autobiography  furnishes  a  brief,  but  char- 
acteristic, sketch  of  Mr.  Tevis.  His  friends  will  see  the 
same  simple  honesty,  strong  moral  sense,  and  earnest  piety, 
which  marked  his  energetic  life  running  through  every  para- 
graph. To  him,  "Life  was  earnest,  life  was  real,"  and  he 
lived  and  labored  in  accordance  with  his  convictions.  His 
creed  was  in  his  heart,  and  formed  the  basis  of  his  character. 
Duty,  in  his  vocabulary,  was  not  a  conventional  term,  used 
for  the  sake  of  euphony  or  embellishment,  but  a  word  of  sol- 
emn signification,  implying  relations  of  obligation  and  respon- 
sibility to  God  and  his  fellow-men.  It  was  his  guide  in  all 
things.  Theories  and  adventitious  circumstances  had  little 
influence  upon  his  decisions;  and,  when  a  question  was  once 
decided,  action  promptly  followed.  With  an  ardent  and  im- 
pulsive temperament,  which  many  make  an  apology  for  impet- 
uosity and  irregularity,  he  maintained  a  consistency  and  uni- 
formity of  Christian  conduct  seldom  seen  in  ordinary  life. 
Over  mind  and  heart,  over  reason  and  passion,  his  conscience 
ruled  supreme.  This  I  take  to  have  been  the  prominent  feature 
of  his  strongly  marked  character. 

As  a  business  man,  but  few  surpassed  him  in  those  qualities 
essential  to  success  in  the  pursuit  or  the  use  of  wealth.  Clear 
and  far-seeing  in  his  perceptions,  he  was  never  tempted  to 
uncertain  speculations,  but  confined  his  plans  to  the  simple 
methods  of  legitimate  increase.  Strictly  honest,  to  the  value 
of  a  cent,  he  measured  the  commercial  obligations  of  others 
by  the  same  standard.  He  paid  his  debts  with  punctuality, 
and  collected  his  dues  from  others  with  the  same  exactness. 


io  INTR  on  UCTION. 

His  success  in  managing  his  extensive  and  complicated  busi- 
ness affairs  is  the  best  proof  of  his  qualifications  in  this  respect. 

Just  and  upright  in  all  his  business  transactions,  he  was 
equally  conscientious  and  discreet  in  his  charities.  The  poor 
always  found  him  a  friend;  not  in  word  merely,  giving  good 
advice,  and  unwilling  to  give  any  thing  more  substantial,  but 
a  friend  indeed,  seeking  them  out,  and  relieving  their  necessi- 
ties with  a  liberal,  but  provident,  hand.  Real  want  never 
appealed  to  him  in  vain;  indolence  and  vice  seldom  deceived 
him.  The  blessings  of  the  poor  followed  him  to  the  grave, 
and  the  benedictions  of  the  widow  and  orphan  descend  on  his 
memory.  He  was,  by  common  consent,  the  guardian  of  the 
poor  in  the  village  where  he  lived;  and  many  a  humble  home 
mourned  sincerely  his  death.  Could  the  grateful  tears  of  pov- 
erty avert  the  desolations  of  Winter,  perpetual  Spring  would 
bloom  round  his  tomb. 

Mr.  Tevis's  religious  character  was  strongly  marked.  His 
religion  was  not  a  sentiment,  not  a  creed  "fenced  round  with 
holy  texts,"  but  the  life  of  his  soul.  He  lived  "by  faith  in 
the  Son  of  God."  This  spiritual  life  was  supported  by  con- 
stant intercourse  with  the  mercy-seat.  He  loved  the  silent 
communion  of  the  closet;  and  there,  with  his  "Father  in 
secret,"  daily  "renewed  his  strength."  The  regular  and 
prayerful  reading  and  study  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  was  a  daily 
habit.  The  devotional  parts  of  the  Scriptures  were  especially 
his  delight.  Here  his  spirit  gathered  strength  for  the  conflicts 
and  labors  of  life.  "Prayer  was  his  native  air,"  his  "vital 
breath."  The  family  altar  was  not  a  mere  "household  orna- 
ment," but  the  shrine  where,  as  priest  of  the  family,  he  offered 
up  morning  and  evening  sacrifices.  Like  Abraham,  he  "com- 
manded his  children  and  his  household  after  him;"  and  while 
he  observed  himself  "the  law  of  the  Lord,"  he  required  all  under 
his  authority  to  do  the  same.  Family  worship,  observance  of  the 
Sabbath,  and  attendance  upon  the  public  worship  of  the  sanc- 
tuary were,  in  his  view,  matters  of  the  first  importance,  not  to 


INTR  OD  UCTION.  z  j 

be  neglected  for  business,  pleasure,  or  any  other  consideration. 
Especially  was  his  respect  for  the  "Sabbath  of  the  Lord" 
worthy  of  all  praise.  The  servants  knew  -it  as  a  day  of  rest. 
Cooking  was  not  allowed,  except  what  was  absolutely  neces- 
sary. Feasting  on  Sunday,  that  vice  of  Christian  households, 
was  never  known  under  his  roof  while  he  was  master. 

As  a  preacher,  Mr.  Tevis  belonged  to  the  old  school. 
Thoroughly  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  Wesleyan  Methodism, 
he  was  not  only  evangelical  in  his  creed,  but  in  his  matter  and 
manner  as  a  preacher.  He  believed  the  Articles  of  Faith,  as 
held  by  the  Methodist  Church,  to  be  Scriptural;  and  he  was 
prepared  to  defend  them  against  all  opposers ;  not  by  quota- 
tions from  the  Fathers,  but  by  the  Word  of  God.  Yet,  with 
all  this,  he  was  very  catholic  in  his  feelings,  and  fraternized 
heartily  with  all  the  orthodox  denominations,  and  often  filled 
their  pulpits  with  acceptability.  He  loved  all  who  love  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ.  His  personal  ministry  was  greatly  blessed. 
His  imagination  never  led  him  astray  from  the  simplicity  of  the 
Gospel.  He  was  made  presiding  elder  at  a  time  when  only 
the  best  preachers  were  appointed  to  that  office. 

He  sleeps  in  Jesus.  His  grave  is  situated  in  one  of  the 
most  lovely  spots  in  Grove  Hill  Cemetery,  near  the  beautiful 
and  quiet  village  of  Shelbyville,  Ky. 

W.  G.  E.  C. 

SCIENCE  HILL,  1865. 


REV.  JOHN  TEVIS: 

AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH. 


CHAPTER  I. 

I  WAS  born  January  6,  1792,  in  Baltimore  County,  Ma- 
ryland. My  parents  were  descended  from  a  reputable 
English  ancestry,  and  were  themselves  regular  and  worthy 
communicants  in  the  English  Church,  previous  to  the 
American  Revolution.  One  of  the  earliest  recollections 
of  my  life  was  family  worship  on  Sabbath,  and  the  regu- 
lar catechetical  instruction,  not  only  of  the  white  children, 
but  also  of  all  the  younger  servants  in  my  father's  family. 
It  is  to  be  regretted  that  family  worship  and  systematic 
religious  instruction  of  children  and  servants  in  the  fam- 
ilies of  professed  Christians  should  be  so  much  neglected. 
By  faithfully  discharging  these  primary  duties  we  fulfill 
the  injunction  to  "train  up  our  children  in  the  nurture 
and  admonition  of  the  Lord,"  and  may  reasonably  expect 
an  early  development  of  virtuous  and  pious  principles 
in  them. 

My  father,  with  several  brothers  of  my  mother,  served 
in  the  Colonial  army,  in  defense  of  their  country.  They 
were  attached  to  what  was  known  as  the  "Maryland 
line."  One  of  my  uncles  died  in  the  army  at  White 
Plains.  There  were  many  traditional  incidents  of  the 
Revolution  treasured  in  our  family.  Some  of  these  pos- 


14  REV.  JOHN  TEVIS. 

sessed  more  than  a  mere  personal  interest,  involving  as 
they  did  historical  facts  connected  with  the  leading  events 
of  the  times.  But  they  are  gone,  with  the  thousand 
unwritten  stories  of  suffering  and  heroism ;  gone,  with  the 
actors,  to  the  darkness  and  silence  of  the  forgotten  past. 
My  early  education  was  limited  to  the  elementary 
instruction  imparted  in  a  "common  school"  at  that  day. 
This  would  by  no  means  compare  with  the  improved 
system  of  common-school  instruction  of  the  present,  but 
extended  to  little  beyond  the  rudiments  of  a  plain  English 
education.  It  was  sufficient,  however,  for  ordinary  pur- 
poses, and  furnished  an  active  and  enterprising  mind  with 
the  knowledge  necessary  to  guide  it  in  all  the  practical 
duties  of  life.  Education  can  not  create  mind,  or  supply 
energy,  but  must  be  chiefly  valued  as  an  instrument  for 
doing  good.  The  degree  requisite  for  this  purpose  will 
depend  upon  the  general  intelligence  of  the  community, 
and  the  nature  of  the  pursuit  in  which  one  is  engaged. 
No  person  values  a  good  education  more  than  I  do,  or 
rejoices  more  in  the  improved  state  of  our  common 

schools. 

t 

My  childhood  and  youth  passed  rapidly  and  pleasantly 
away,  surrounded  by  the  endearments  of  a  virtuous  and 
happy  home.  From  a  very  early  day,  serious  thoughts 
of  my  responsibilities  as  an  immortal  being  deeply  im- 
pressed my  mind,  and  many  earnest  resolutions  of 
amendment  were  formed.  Under  the  influence  of  a 
sound  moral  training,  and  the  restraints  of  a  well-regu- 
lated household,  I  maintained  the  reputation  of  a  moral 
young  man ;  and  this  reputation  was  not  undeserved. 
When  about  twenty-one  years  of  age,  my  religious  con- 
victions became  so  strong  as  to  render  me  at  times  very 
unhappy.  I  read  the  Holy  Scriptures  with  care;  also 


A  UTOBIOGRAPH  Y.  1 5 

some  of  Dr.  Scott's  and  Dr.  Witherspoon's  theological 
writings,  but  never  embraced  the  peculiar  views  of  these 
good  men.  I  could  not  reconcile  the  narrowness  of  the 
Calvinistic  creed  with  the  liberal  provisions  of  the  Gospel. 
I  turned  away  from  the  barren  theological  dogmas  of  the 
schools  to  the  Word  of  God,  and  sought,  by  prayer  and 
study  of  the  Scriptures,  to  find  the  path  of  duty.  I  did 
not  seek  in  vain;  for  He  who  has  said,  "If  any  man 
lack  wisdom,  let  him  ask  of  God,  and  it  shall  be  given 
him,"  brought  me  to  the  "knowledge  of  the  truth  as  it 
is  in  Christ  Jesus." 

I  began,  about  this  time,  seriously  to  consider  the 
duty  of  uniting  myself  with  the  Church.  While  think- 
ing on  the  suty'ect,  and  disposed  perhaps  to  defer  the 
step,  an  aged  and  esteemed  friend  urged  me  to  immediate 
action.  His  counsel,  seconded  by  my  own  convictions  of 
duty,  led  me  to  join  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church  on 
Sabbath,  May  9,  1813.  I  was  not  satisfied,  at  the  time, 
that  my  sins  had  been  forgiven;  but  I  was  sincerely 
seeking  that  blessing,  and  believed  it  to  be  my  duty  to 
identify  myself  with  the  people  of  God.  I  could  not 
reasonably  ask  God  to  bless  me  while  living  in  the  neg- 
lect of  a  plain  duty.  It  was  a  cross  thus  publicly  to 
pledge  myself  to  follow  Christ  in  the  communion  of  a 
people  "every-where  spoken  against,"  and  with  whom 
my  family  had  not  united.  I  saw  then,  as  clearly  as  I 
do  now,  perhaps,  the  great  responsibilities  assumed  in 
this  act;  and  I  was  not  ignorant  of  my  own  weakness, 
and  the  consequent  danger  of  "failing  of  the  grace  of 
God."  But  God,  I  trust,  accepted  the  imperfect  offering 
of  myself  thus  made,  and,  in  about  four  months  after, 
made  me  rejoice  in  a  sense  of  his  pardoning  mercy. 
This  happy  event  took  place  while  listening  to  a  plain, 


1 6  REV.  JOHN  TEVIS. 

but  forcible,  sermon  by  Rev.  Charles  Holliday,  from 
Hebrews  vi,  i:  "Let  us  go  on  to  perfection."  As  he 
described  the  blessed  change  wrought  by  the  Holy  Ghost 
in  the  heart  of  the  penitent  believer,  he  asserted  that  the 
child  of  God  may  know  it;  as  he  repeated  with  peculiar 
emphasis  the  declaration,  "He  knows  it  through  grace," 
I  felt 

"That  which  nothing  earthly  gives,  or  can  destroy, 
The  soul's  calm  sunshine,  and  the  heartfelt  joy." 

I  felt  that  God  had,  for  Christ's  sake,  forgiven  my  sins — 
had  saved  me.  This  was  not  a  transient  feeling,  but  an 
abiding  sense  of  the  blessed  Comforter's  indwelling  pres- 
ence, which  has  cheered  me  through  all  the  way  of  my 
forty  years'  pilgrimage,  and  is  now  the  solace  of  my 
declining  days. 

According  to  the  custom  of  Methodists  in  their  social 
meetings  at  that  day,  I  was  called  upon  to  lead  in  prayer. 
This  was  a  severe  trial  to  most  young  converts ;  but, 
strengthened  by  the  Holy  Spirit  and  a  fixed  determina- 
tion to  do  all  my  duty  so  far  as  I  could,  "the  yoke  was 
easy,  and  the  burden  light."  The  family  altar  had  long 
been  erected  in  my  father's  house,  and  I  was  now  required 
to  assist  in  domestic  worship.  This,  though  at  first 
embarrassing,  was  a  great  blessing  to  me,  and,  I  hope, 
profitable  to  the  family.  I  was  thus  early  introduced 
into  the  way  in  which  it  was  God's  will  I  should  travel 
the  remainder  of  my  life.  The  thought,  however,  of 
becoming  a  minister  did  not  seriously  enter  my  mind  for 
the  first  year  after  my  conversion.  I  did  not  choose  it 
as  a  profession ;  I  entered  it  from  a  sense  of  duty. 

In  April,  1814,  my  religion  was  brought  to  the  test 
by  a  severe  illness,  which  reduced  me  to  the  verge  of  the 
grave.  At  one  time  my  recovery  was  despaired  of,  and 


A  UTOBIOGRAPHY.  !  y 

I  prepared  to  meet  death;  and  such  was  my  faith  and 
hope  in  God  that  I  ardently  desired  to  depart  and  be 
with  Christ.  Death  had  lost  its  terrors,  and  the  joys  of 
heaven  so  entranced  my  heart  that  I  had  no  wish  to  re- 
main where  I  might  prove  unfaithful  to  the  grace  already 
given.  I  was  mercifully  restored  to  health  again,  and 
with  it  increased  convictions  of  duty  possessed  my  mind. 
I  felt  willing  to  do  whatever  God  in  his  providence  might 
appoint  as  my  work.  An  opportunity  to  try  the  sincer- 
ity of  this  purpose  was  soon  afforded.  Without  my 
knowledge,  I  was  appointed  to  take  a  list  of  the  taxable 
property  in  one  of  the  districts  of  Shelby  County.*  This 
of  course  enlarged  the  circle  of  my  acquaintance,  and 
presented  frequent  opportunities  to  converse  on  the  sub- 
ject of  religion,  and  pray  with  the  families  where  I  spent 
the  nights  while  canvassing  the  district.  I  thank  God  he 
gave  me  grace  to  acknowledge  him  under  these  new  and 
peculiar  circumstances.  I  prayed  in  families  where  such 
a  thing  had  perhaps  never  been  seen  before.  My  own 
soul  was  refreshed  and  strengthened,  and  I  trust  some 
good  done  to  others.  It  was,  as  I  now  see,  a  providential 
preparation  for  the  work  in  which  I  was  about  to  engage. 
About  the  time  I  finished  my  labor  on  the  district  as 
assessor,  Rev.  Wm.  Adams  appointed  me  leader  of  a 
class  which  met  some  four  miles  from  Shelbyville.  I  en- 
tered upon  the  delicate  duties  of  this  responsible  office 
with  fear  and  much  self-distrust;  but  found  in  this,  as  in 
all  other  instances  of  severe  trial,  strength  and  comfort 
imparted.  I  soon  learned  that  to  be  happy  I  must  strive 
to  be  useful. 


*  Mr.  Tevis's  family  moved  from  Maryland  to  Kentucky,  in  1808. 
They  settled  at  first  in  Bullitt  County,  but  subsequently  removed  to 
Shelby  County,  where  he  died. — w.  G.  E.  c. 


iS  REV.  JOHN  TEVIS, 

Near  the  close  of  this  year  the  Shelbyville  class,  of 
which  I  was  a  member,  recommended  me  for  license  to 
exhort.  I  accepted,  with  the  belief  that  if  it  were  God's 
will  to  use  me  in  this  way  he  would  make  it  known  in 
the  humble  attempt  to  do  my  duty.  I  asked  the  presid- 
ing elder  what  evidence  I  might  expect  as  proof  that  I 
was  in  the  path  of  duty  in  this  matter.  He  replied: 
"Go  forward  cheerfully;  accept  every  invitation  to  hold 
meetings;  and,  if  you  are  in  the  right  path,  your  own 
soul  will  be  blessed  and  the  cause  of  God  advanced  by 
your  labors."  This  I  take  to  be  wise  counsel.  One  of 
the  first  questions  asked  by  Mr.  Wesley  of  those  who 
professed  to  be  called  to  preach  was,  "Have  you  fruits?" 
This  he  explained  by  another  question,  "Are  any  con- 
verted under  your  preaching?"  This  is  God's  seal  to  his 
own  ministry.  After  receiving  license  as  an  exhorter,  I 
was  strongly  solicited  to  assist  Rev.  W.  Adams  on  the 
Salt  River  Circuit.  But  the  time  had  not  fully  come  for 
me  to  enter  upon  this  important  work.  My  mind  was 
thus  gradually  being  prepared  to  leave  all  for  the  cause 
of  Christ  in  the  blessed  ministry  of  the  Gospel.  Often, 
in  seasons  of  spiritual  elevation,  when  my  heart  was  filled 
with  a  tender  desire  for  the  salvation  of  souls,  I  felt  it 
was  clearly  my  duty  to  preach;  but  again,  in  seasons  of 
mental  depression,  a  fear  would  interpose  lest  this  should 
all  be  only  the  heat  of  my  own  imagination,  "sparks  of 
my  own  kindling."  I,  however,  committed  myself  to  the 
"fiery  and  cloudy  pillar;"  that  is,  tried  to  follow  the 
indications  of  God's  providence  with  a  cheerful  and  sub- 
missive spirit.  My  time  was  spent  in  studying  the  Holy 
Scriptures,  prayer,  and  visiting  for  the  purpose  of  relig- 
ious conversation;  seeking,  by  discharging  present  duties, 
to  prepare  myself  for  whatever  future  labors  God  might 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY.  19 

appoint  me.  My  beloved  spiritual  adviser,  Rev.  W. 
Adams,  urged  me  to  commence  immediately  the  itinerant 
ministry,  by  joining  him  on  his  circuit.  His  influence, 
supported  by  the  growing  convictions  of  my  own  mind, 
induced  me  to  yield,  so  far  as  to  consent  to  make  the  trial. 
It  now  became  necessary  to  consult  my  father,  who 
had  designed  to  make  me  the  farmer  of  the  family,  my 
brothers  all  having  engaged  in  other  pursuits.  I  knew  it 
would  be  a  severe  trial  to  him  to  see  me  enter  upon  the 
work  of  a  Methodist  traveling  preacher;  but  I  also  knew 
that  his  circumstances  rendered  my  presence  and  labor  at 
home  comparatively  unimportant,  and  that  he  was  too 
good  a  man  to  seriously  oppose  me  in  what  I  sincerely 
believed  to  be  my  duty.  He  thought  some  previous 
literary  and  theological  training  necessary  before  entering 
the  ministry.  This  I  did  not  possess,  at  least  in  the  de- 
gree which  he  deemed  requisite.  My  convictions,  how- 
ever, would  not  suffer  me  to  give  up  the  work  in  which 
my  heart  was  now  enlisted.  My  father  reluctantly  gave 
his  consent,  fearing,  no  doubt,  as  I  did,  the  possibility 
of  a  failure. 


20  REV.  JOHN  TEVIS. 


CHAPTER  II. 

HAVING  settled  the  question  in  my  own  mind,  that  I 
ought  to  give  myself  wholly  to  the  work  of  an 
itinerant  preacher,  and  having  obtained  the  consent  of 
my  father,  I  now  began  to  make  preparation  to  join  the 
preacher -in -charge  on  the  Salt  River  Circuit.  On  the 
loth  day  of  March,  1815,  all  was  ready,  and  the  next  day 
I  was  on  the  circuit.  I  remained  but  a  few  days  on  this 
work,  when  I  was  transferred  to  Shelby  and  Jefferson  Cir- 
cuits. Here  the  life  of  a  traveling  preacher  began  prop- 
erly with  me,  and  from  this  I  date  my  itinerant  career. 

On  leaving  home,  my  father  gave  me  his  purse, 
from  which  I  took  three  dollars.  With  this  small  sum,  a 
good  horse,  saddle,  saddle-bags,  and  a  supply  of  cloth- 
ing, a  Bible,  hymn-book,  Discipline,  Wesley's  Notes, 
and  the  portraiture  of  St.  Paul,  as  my  entire  "outfit,"  I 
began  life.  The  Shelby  and  Jefferson  Circuits  had  been 
united,  and  preaching  at  each  appointment  once  in  three 
weeks  was  changed  to  preaching  every  two  weeks. 

Revs.  Thomas  D.  Porter  and  William  M'Mahon  had 
been  the  preachers  on  this  work — both  very  popular  with 
the  people.  They  were  excellent  preachers — but  few 
better.  My  first  effort  in  this  work  was  made  under 
unfavorable  circumstances.  A  large  congregation  had 
assembled  to  hear  brother  M'Mahon.  I  did  the  best  I 
could,  however.  My  youth  and  inexperience  appealed 
strongly  to  the  sympathies  of  the  people,  and,  I  doubt 
not,  they  bore  the  disappointment  with  as  much  patience 


A  U  TO  BIG  GRAPH  Y.  2 1 

as  could  be  reasonably  expected.  I  preached  with  much 
greater  liberty  a  few  weeks  afterward  to  a  small  congre- 
gation at  the  same  place.  I  spent  the  remainder  of  the 
year  on  this  circuit,  sometimes  greatly  comforted,  and 
often  much  depressed  in  spirit;  but,  I  can  say,  that  from 
the  beginning  of  my  ministerial  life  to  this  present  time 
my  victories  over  self  and  circumstances  have  ail  been 
obtained  through  the  grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

The  Conference  met  this  year  at  Lebanon,  Ohio.  I 
was  received  on  trial  into  the  "traveling  connection"  at 
this  session,  and  appointed  to  the  Lexington  (Kentucky) 
Circuit,  with  the  Rev.  Thomas  D.  Porter  as  preacher - 
in -charge.  I  received  this,  my  first  regular  appoint- 
ment, from  that  apostle  of  American  Methodism,  Bishop 
Asbury.  But  little  apparent  success  attended  our  labors 
this  year.  God  only  knows  what  good  was  done.  v 

I  was  comforted  by  an  affectionate  letter  from  my 
father  during  the  year,  stating,  he  no  longer  objected 
to  my  course,  but  expressed  the  hope  that  I  would 
persevere  and  do  much  good.  He  offered  me  any  pecun- 
iary assistance  I  might  need. 

At  the  next  session  of  the  Conference,  which  was  held 
in  the  city  of  Louisville,  Kentucky,  I  was  sent  to  the  Salt 
Creek  Circuit,  Ohio.  This  was  a  large  circuit  lying  east 
of  the  Scioto  River,  embracing  Portsmouth,  Piketon, 
New  Richmond,  and  the  Scioto  Salt  Works.  There  were 
some  twenty  appointments,  which  I  visited  every  three 
weeks.  The  largest  congregation  on  the  circuit  was  at 
the  old  Scioto  Salt  Works,  where  were  many  worthy 
Christians,  whom  I  hope  to  meet  in  a  better  world.  Rev. 
David  Young  was  my  presiding  elder.  He  took  me  to 
his  quarterly -meeting  in  Chillicothe,  and,  to  my  surprise, 
put  me  up  to  preach  at  eleven  o'clock  on  Sabbath. 


22  REV.  JOHN  TEVIS. 

Several  preachers  were  present,  some  of  them  men  of 
reputation — such  as  Beauchamp,  Scott,  Hinde,  Dr.  Tiffin, 
and  others.  Unexpected  and  strange  as  it  was  to  be 
thus  put  forward,  it  pleased  God  to  aid  me,  so  that  I 
have  seldom  preached  with  more  comfort  to  myself  or 
visible  effect  on  the  congregation  than  on  this  occasion. 

While  on  this  circuit  I  learned  something  of  the  hard- 
ships which  the  early  settlers  in  the  West  had  to  endure. 
Many  of  them  were  poor  families  from  Virginia,  North 
Carolina,  and  Pennsylvania,  with  but  little  education  or 
skill  in  the  art  of  living.  The  forests  were  dense,  and 
the  labor  necessary  to  open  a  farm  was  so  great,  that  few 
did  more  than  clear  away  a  small  "patch,"  on  which  they 
managed  to  raise  a  scanty  subsistence.  Among  them 
were  many  sincere  Christians,  whose  liberality  in  opening 
their  houses  for  preaching,  that  their  neighbors  might 
hear  the  Gospel,  was  worthy  of  all  praise. 

About  ninety  persons  were  added  to  the  Church  this 
year,  one  or  two  of  whom  have  since  filled  his  mission  as 
a  minister  of  the  Gospel.  The  year  was  altogether  a 
pleasant  and,  I  trust,  profitable  one.  It  was  full  enough 
of  trial  and  full  of  mercy — many  happy  seasons  which  I 
shall  never  forget. 

Having  closed  the  year's  labors,  I  visited  my  father 
and  friends  in  Kentucky,  and  then  attended  the  Annual 
Conference,  which  met  in  Zanesville,  Ohio.  Here  I  was 
ordained  deacon  by  Bishop  R.  R.  Roberts,  and  received 
into  "full  connection"  as  a  traveling  preacher.  This 
year,  1817,*  I  was  appointed  to  Zanesville  Circuit,  with 


*This  must  refer  to  the  end  of  1817,  when  the  Conference  met  in 
the  Autumn  or  Winter,  for,  according  to  the  law  of  the  Church,  he 
could  not  be  ordained  deacon  until  he  had  traveled  two  years.  He 
joined  on  probation  at  the  end  of  1815. — w.  G.  E.  c. 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY.  23 

Rev.  Samuel  Glades  as  my  assistant.  Brother  Glades 
was  a  deeply  pious  young  man,  of  good  mind  and  stu- 
dious habits.  His  course  was  soon  finished;  he  laid  down 
the  cross  for  a  crown  only  a  few  years  after  this,  when 
with  me  on  the  Zanesville  Circuit. 

This  period  was  one  of  labor  and  trial.  We  toiled  to 
cultivate  an  apparently  barren  soil.  Our  presiding  elder 
was  the  good,  the  venerable  Jacob  Young,  much  beloved 
and  honored  in  the  Church.  The  infirmities  of  age, 
blindness,  and  feebleness  are  now  rapidly  carrying  him  to 
his  last  home.  His  sun,  though  shaded  by  a  cloud, 
shines  brightly,  and  promises  a  glorious  setting. 

The  Annual  Conference  met  for  the  year  1818  in 
Steubenville,  Ohio.  Here  I  saw,  for  the  first  time,  that 
extraordinary  man,  Asa  Shinn,  and  heard  him  preach  an 
able  sermon  on  the  text,  "If  any  man  love  not  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,"  etc.  He  was  a  strong  man  in  argument 
and  apt  in  illustration,  more  impressive  usually  than 
reasoning  with  the  multitude.  He  lived  long  enough,  as 
he  said  to  an  old  friend,  to  be  "heartily  tired  of  reform, 
both  in  Church  and  State."  This  was  saying  a  good 
deal  for  one  who  had  spent  his  life  trying  to  "reform" 
what  he  could  not  improve.  I  have  read  few  books  with 
more  pleasure  than  his  "Plan  of  Salvation;"  but  his 
second  work,  on  "The  Divine  Being,"  was  a  failure;  he 
promised  more  than  he  performed.  He  was,  in  some 
respects,  a  great  man. 

I  was  sent  this  year  to  Columbus,  one  of  the  best 
circuits  in  the  Conference.  My  colleague  this  year 
was  Rev.  Leroy  Swormstedt,  a  man  whom  I  loved  and 
still  love  for  his  goodness.  We  labored  harmoniously 
together,  and  under  the  divine  blessing  with  much  suc- 
cess, especially  in  the  city  of  Columbus.  Some  sixty 


24  REV.  JOHN  TEVIS. 

persons  were  added  to  the  city  society.  In  this  place 
were  some  of  God's  most  precious  children.  Here  lived 
old  brother  M'Cormack,  a  pillar  and  an  ornament  to  the 
Church;  and  Mother  Rathbone,  whose  son  we  this  year 
received  into  the  Church,  and  who  has  been,  for  many 
years,  a  traveling  preacher  in  the  Kentucky  Conference. 
On  one  occasion  this  excellent  woman  said  to  me:  "I 
know  not  why  my  Heavenly  Father  continues  my  life, 
for  I  have  lived  as  long  as  I  desired;  I  have  seen  all  my 
children  brought  into  the  Church."  But  she  waited 
patiently  for  the  salvation  of  God,  and  finally  attained  her 
crown.  This  circuit  included  the  town  of  Delaware,  at 
that  time  a  small  place.  I  think  it  probable  that  brother 
Swormstedt  and  myself  Avere  the  first  preachers  who  ever 
called  the  sinners  of  this  place  to  repentance.  I  would 
like  to  visit  it  now  to  see  what  the  Lord  has  done  for 
it  since  our  day  there. 

In  1819,*  the  Annual  Conference  met  in  Cincinnati, 
Ohio.  Bishop  George  presided.  This  beloved  shepherd 
was  held  in  great  veneration  by  the  whole  Church.  He 
died  at  Staunton,  Virginia,  in  1828.  I  was  ordained 
elder  this  year,  and  returned  to  Columbus  Circuit,  with  a 
young  man  as  my  assistant.  Rev.  J.  Collins  was  my 
presiding  elder.  He  was  a  good  man,  a  father  in  the 
Church,  and  one  of  my  best  friends.  He  was  well 
qualified  for  the  office,  one  of  the  most  influential  in  the 
whole  economy  of  Methodism.  Wise  in  counsel,  kind 
in  manner,  and  energetic  in  action,  he  was  always  a 
favorite  with  the  preachers  under  him.  As  a  preacher  he 
had  but  few  superiors — not  many  equals. 


*The  date  of  the  year  1818  is  entirely  omitted.  He  was  ordained 
elder  at  this  Conference  in  due  course,  having  traveled  four  years. — 
\V.  G.  E.  C. 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY.  25 

I  was  present  at  the  General  Conference  of  1820, 
which  met  in  the  city  of  Baltimore,  though  not  a  dele- 
gate. I  saw  the  working  of  the  "radical"  element, 
which  resulted  after  the  Pittsburg  Conference,  in  1828,  in 
the  separation  of  the  "Methodist  Protestant"  from  the 
Methodist  Episcopal  Church.  At  this  General  Confer- 
ence it  was  determined  to  create  a  Kentucky  Annual 
Conference  out  of  parts  of  the  Ohio  and  Tennessee 
Conferences.  After  attending  the  Ohio  Conference  at 
Chillicothe,  I  returned  to  Kentucky,  intending  to  join 
this  new  Conference,  I  attended  the  session  of  the  Ten- 
nessee Conference,  which  met  shortly  after  my  return, 
at  Hopkinsville,  Kentucky.  Bishop  Roberts,  who  was 
expected  to  preside,  did  not  arrive,  and  Rev.  Marcus 
Lindsay  was  elected  chairman.  I  was  solicited  to  take 
charge  of  the  Holston  District,  in  the  Tennessee  Confer- 
ence. This  was,  by  no  means,  according  to  my  plans  or 
wishes.  I  had  been  traveling  but  five  years,  and  dis- 
trusted my  qualifications  for  such  a  position,  I  earnestly 
asked  to  be  excused  if  any  other  arrangement  could  be 
made.  But  Father  Holliday  came  to  me  the  second 
time  to  urge  my  compliance,  which  resulted  in  my  saying, 
"I  can  go  anywhere  the  Conference  may  please  to  send 
me."  I  had  spent  four  years  in  the  North-west;  I  was 
now  sent  to  the  South-east.  But  it  is  little  matter  to  a 
Methodist  preacher  where  the  path  of  duty  may  lead 
him,  comforted  by  the  promise,  "Lo  I  am  with  you 
alway,  even  to  the  end  of  the  world." 


26  REV.  JOHN  TEVIS. 


CHAPTER  III. 

I  WAS  now  about  to  undertake  the  responsibilities  of  a 
new  office,  among  a  strange  people.  I  had  no  ac- 
quaintance with  the  country,  preachers,  or  people;  but 
every  faithful  minister  has  a  better  passport  than  a  con- 
ference or  bishop  can  give  him,  even  "the  Spirit  of  the 
Lord  resting  upon  him."  I  was  kindly  received,  and  all 
endeavored  to  hold  up  my  feeble  hands  and  cheer  me 
in  my  work.  A  gracious  revival  of  religion  prevailed 
throughout  the  district.  Rev.  Jesse  Cunnyngham,  father 
of  Rev.  W.  G.  E.  Cunnyngham,  now  missionary  to  China, 
had  evinced  considerable  tact  and  judgment  in  selecting 
preachers  to  fill  the  different  circuits;  for,  after  all  that 
may  be  said  and  done,  the  presiding  elders  make  most 
of  the  appointments.  I  had  a  corps  of  zealous  young 
men  who  had  given  themselves  to  the  work  of  the  min- 
istry. They  read  their  Bibles,  prayed  much,  and  preached 
earnestly,  and  with  great  acceptability  generally.  Many 
souls  were  converted  and  brought  into  the  Church  through 
their  instrumentality.  I  tried  to  retain  some  of  them  in 
the  district  as  long  as  I  was  on  it.  I  think,  during  the 
four  years,  there  was  a  net  increase  of  four  thousand 
members  within  the  bounds  of  the  district.  This  would 
have  been  considered  a  large  increase  in  any  part  of  the 
country,  but  especially  large  for  South-western  Virginia, 
North  Carolina,  and  East  Tennessee.  This  glorious 
revival  was  instrumental  in  raising  up  many  young  men 
of  gifts  and  grace  for  the  ministry;  and  the  Methodist 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY.  27 

Church  has  continued  to  prosper  in  that  country  ever 
since,  notwithstanding  the  "gates  of  hell"  have  raged 
against  it.  There  was  one  young  man  of  extraordinary 
gifts,  who  shall  be  nameless  here.  From  a  seat  in  the 
General  Conference  he  found  a  seat  in  Congress.  Thus, 
preferring  the  honor  which  cometh  from  man  to  the  honor 
which  cometh  from  God,  he  has  lost  both  in  the  ruins  of 
apostasy.  Let  young  men  remember  that  pride  and  van- 
ity lead  only  to  ruin.  God  is  not  mocked.  Vengeance 
will  sooner  or  later  overtake  the  man  who  sells  his  com- 
mission as  a  minister  for  the  empty  honors  or  guilty  gains 
of  worldly  ambition.  Alas,  poor  man !  He  is  now  with 
Judas.  But  there  were  others,  good  and  true  men,  who 
have  proved  faithful  through  the  trials  of  thirty  years. 
Rev.  William  Patton,  of  a  Presbyterian  family,  began  to 
preach,  I  think,  in  1822.  He  labored  long  and  faith- 
fully in  the  Missouri  Conference,  but  has  gone  to  his 
glorious  reward  in  heaven.  George  Horn,  David  Flem- 
ing, Josiah  Rhoton,  Creed  Fulton,  and  Elbert  F.  Sevier 
were  good  and  faithful  men.  Brothers  Sevier  and  Fulton, 
the  first  from  Washington  County,  East  Tennessee,  and 
the  latter  from  Grayson  County,  Virginia,  were  very 
promising  young  men,  and  have  fulfilled  the  promise. 
Creed  Fulton,  as  agent  for  Emory  and  Henry  College, 
did  much  for  the  Church  and  the  cause  of  education  in 
the  Holston  Conference.  The  establishment  of  this  col- 
lege was  a  most  successful  enterprise.  It  was  very  fortu- 
nate in  its  first  president,  Rev.  Charles  Collins,  a  man 
admirably  qualified  for  the  place  and  the  times.  Previ- 
ous to  the  establishment  of  this  college,  South-western 
Virginia,  East  Tennessee,  and  Western  North  Carolina 
were  peculiarly  destituts  of  educational  facilities.  When 
I  visited  Emory  and  Henry  College,  in  1848,  more  than 


z8  REV.  JOHN  TEVIS. 

two  hundred  young  men  had  gone  forth  from  its  halls  to 
become  teachers,  etc. 

Sanctified  learning  is  the  great  instrument  of  social 
improvement;  that  is,  a  literature  imbued  with  the  pure 
morality  of  the  Gospel  not  only  elevates  but  refines  soci- 
ety. Education  which  includes  a  knowledge  of  "the 
truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus"  furnishes  the  best  safeguard 
against  social  and  political  anarchy. 

Our  most  prosperous  year  on  the  Holston  District 
was  1823.  This  year  seventeen  hundred  members  were 
added  to  the  Church.  Among  the  number  was  a  young 
lady  who  was  acting  as  preceptress  to  Miss  Mary  Smith, 
near  Abingdon,  Virginia,  and  to  whom  I  was  united  in 
the  bonds  of  matrimony  on  the  pth  of  March,  1824.  In 
no  case  has  the  saying  of  the  wise  man,  in  Proverbs 
xxxi,  12,  been  more  literally  fulfilled:  "She  will  do  him 
good,  and  not  evil,  all  the  days  of  her  life." 

During  the  revival,  this  year,  a  gifted  young  man  by 
the  name  of  O.  Ross,  living  in  Jonesboro,  was  happily 
converted,  and  in  the  course  of  a  few  years  became  one 
of  the  most  eloquent  and  popular  preachers  in  the  Ken- 
tucky Conference.  He  died  young,  but  in  the  triumphs 
of  the  Christian  faith. 

Methodism  has  met  with  unreasonable  opposition 
every-where.  Bad  men  have  hated  and  persecuted  it, 
because  it  reproved  the  depraved  customs  and  maxims 
of  an  ungodly  world.  Some  good  men  have  opposed  it, 
because  it  differed  from  the  theology  and  ecclesiastical 
economy  of  their  own  Churches.  In  the  Holston  District 
we  were  called  upon  to  "contend  earnestly  for  the  faith 
once  delivered  to  the  saints,"  and  I  believe  the  truth 
"mightily  prevailed." 

At   the   session    of  the  Tennessee  Conference  which 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY.  29 

met  at  Huntsville,  Alabama,  in  1823,  I  was  elected  a 
delegate  to  the  General  Conference  which  was  to  be  held 
in  Baltimore,  Maryland,  May,  1824.  "Radicalism,"  as 
it  was  called,  had  agitated  the  Church  on  the  "Presiding 
Elder"  question,  and  trouble  was  anticipated  at  this 
Conference.  The  storm,  however,  was  not  as  furious  as 
was  expected.  Bishops  Soule  and  Hedding  were  elected 
at  this  session  of  the  General  Conference.  I  voted  once 
for  my  old  friend,  Beauchamp ;  but,  being  satisfied  that 
the  peace  of  the  Church  would  be  promoted  by  the  elec- 
tion of  a  Northern  man,  I  gave  my  vote  to  E.  Hedding, 
and  I  have  seen  no  cause  to  regret  it. 

At  this  time  I  saw  and  heard  the  great  and  good 
Summerfield,  both  in  the  pulpit  and  on  the  missionary 
platform.  His  appearance  was  the  most  angel-like  I  ever 
saw.  His  preaching  was  "in  power  and  demonstration 
of  the  Holy  Ghost." 

Having  married  in  March  of  this  year,  and  my  four 
years  on  the  Holston  District  at  an  end,  I  asked  and 
received  a  transfer  to  the  Kentucky  Conference.  I  was 
stationed  in  the  city  of  Louisville,  Kentucky,  where  a 
spirit  of  discord  had  well-nigh  ruined  the  early  prospects 
of  Methodism.  A  remnant  had  been  left  of  humble, 
faithful  ones,  especially  among  the  female  part  of  the 
congregation.  A  change  for  the  better  was  soon  per- 
ceptible, but  it  was  a  hard  year. 

3 


30  REV.  JOHN  TEVIS. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

I  HAVE  now  arrived  at  a  period  in  my  narration  where 
an  important  event,  the  opening  of  Science  Hill 
Female  Academy,  gave  a  new  direction  to  my  life  and 
labors,  and  determined  the  local  fortunes  of  my  family. 
My  dear  wife,  whom  I  found  in  Virginia  (as  Miss  Julia 
A.  Hieronymous),  engaged  in  teaching,  wished  to  con- 
tinue an  employment  for  which  she  was  unusually  well 
qualified.  A  good  Protestant  school  was  much  needed. 
Roman  Catholic  schools  had  secured  and,  in  some  cases, 
nearly  monopolized  public  patronage,  because  professing 
to  be  cheaper  than  the  Protestant  schools.  Young  ladies 
of  Protestant  families,  educated  in  Romish  institutions 
of  learning,  returned  to  their  parents  thoroughly  imbued 
with  Romanism.  I  believe  the  founding  of  Science  Hill 
Academy  was  providential,  and  its  long  and  prosperous 
career  seems  sufficient  proof  of  this.  It  was  opened  in 
March,  1825,  and  has  continued  uninterruptedly  to  the 
present  (1857),  having  now  two  hundred  and  thirty  stu- 
dents. How  often,  in  reviewing  the  last  thirty-two  years, 
I  have  felt  the  truth  of  the  promise,  "Seek  first  the  king- 
dom of  God,  and  his  righteousness,  and  all  these  things 
shall  be  added  unto  you."  We  have  enjoyed  the  pleasure 
of  much  temporal  prosperity  and  domestic  comforts.  We 
have  been  honored  as  instruments  of  God  in  doing  good, 
in  diffusing  useful  knowledge,  and  in  winning  souls  to 
Christ.  To  God  be  all  the  glory! 

For  the  two  Conference  years  of  1826  and  1827  I  was 


A  UTOBIOGRAPHY.  3 1 

stationed  at  Shelbyville  and  Brick  Chapel,  spending  much 
of  my  time  in  the  school-room.  I  did  not,  however, 
neglect  my  pastoral  work  or  reading  and  study  prepara- 
tory to  my  pulpit  labors.  Previous  to  my  connection 
with  the  school,  but  few  persons  lived  more  entirely  free 
from  worldly  cares  and  anxieties.  I  gave  myself  to  one 
work,  and  found  that  work  enough  for  all  my  energies. 
Although  teaching  useful  knowledge  is  a  good  work,  and 
next  to  preaching  the  Gospel,  yet  I  conscientiously  think 
no  man  should,  except  under  peculiar  circumstances,  con- 
nect any  secular  employment  with  his  ministerial  labors. 

In  1827  the  Annual  Conference  elected  me  a  delegate 
to  the  General  Conference,  which  met  in  the  city  of 
Pittsburg,  Pennsylvania.  "The  Radicals"  again  made  an 
effort  to  affect  a  change  in  our  ecclesiastical  economy, 
but  failed.  There  were  disaffected  ministers;  but  few  of 
the  people  really  sympathized  with  the  cry  of  "oppres- 
sion" and  "reform."  At  this  session  the  Canada  Meth- 
odists were  authorized  to  form  themselves  into  an  inde- 
pendent Church.  This  separation  has  proved  a  blessing, 
while  the  Protestant  Methodist  has  scarcely  maintained  a 
feeble  existence. 

The  leading  man  at  this  session  of  the  General  Con- 
ference was  the  good  and  great  Emory,  afterwards  Bishop 
Emory,  of  precious  memory.  When  he  rose  to  speak  all 
gave  attention,  and  some  one  said,  "Emory  not  only 
gives  the  usual  number  of  reasons  for  an  opinion,  but 
some  eight  or  ten  more."  He  seldom  failed  to  carry  his 
point.  Radicalism  received  its  death  from  the  heavy 
blows  of  this  giant. 

For  several  years  I  received  an  appointment  from  the 
Annual  Conference  to  Science  Hill  Female  Academy, 
which  wras  taken  under  the  patronage  of  the  Kentucky 


32  REV.  JOHN  TEVIS. 

Annual  Conference.  In  1832  I  was  again  elected  a  dele- 
gate to  the  General  Conference,  which  met  in  Phila- 
delphia, Pennsylvania.  At  this  Conference  Revs.  John 
Emory  and  James  O.  Andrew  were  elected  to  the  epis- 
copacy— men  eminently  qualified  to  fill  that  high  and 
holy  position  in  the  Church  of  Christ. 

One  of  the  most  important  measures  at  this  General 
Conference  was  the  sending  of  our  excellent  brother  Mel- 
ville B.  Cox  to  the  benighted  coast  of  Africa  as  a  mis- 
sionary. We  saw  "Ethiopia  stretching  out  her  hands 
to  God;"  it  was  with  some  fear  that  we  attempted  to 
respond  to  the  call  which  all  seemed  plainly  to  hear. 
We  had  but  little  means,  and  we  knew  the  expenses 
would  be  great.  While  these  things  were  under  discus- 
sion, brother  Cox  pleaded  so  earnestly,  saying,  ' '  Here 
I  am,  send  me,"  that  we  felt  it  must  be  God's  will,  and 
the  question  was  settled.  He  left  us  to  "go  far  hence 
to  the  Gentiles,"  "to  preach  the  Gospel  to  the  poor,  to 
proclaim  liberty  to  the  captives,  and  the  opening  of  the 
prison  doors  to  those  who  were  bound."  He  went  forth 
weeping,  bearing  precious  seed,  which  has  brought  forth 
fruit  abundantly  to  the  glory  of  God.  "He  fell  at  his 
post,"  "far  from  home  and  the  friends  of  his  youth;" 
but  he  fell  with  his  armor  on,  and  his  face  to  the  foe. 
How  gloriously  such  men  die !  What  a  legacy  of  faith, 
love,  and  zeal  they  bequeath  to  the  Church ! 

After  having  received  regular  appointments  from  the 
Ohio,  Tennessee,  and  Kentucky  Conferences,  since  the 
year  1815,  my  brethren,  from  the  best  of  motives,  and 
properly,  as  I  believe,  gave  me  a  "superannuated  rela- 
tion" in  the  Kentucky  Conference.  This  position,  in  a 
Methodist  Conference,  is  not  considered  a  degradation, 
but  an  honorable  discharge  from  the  active  duties  of  the 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY.  33 

itinerancy,  and  may  be  employed  with  credit  and  great 
usefulness;  and  now,  after  a  period  spent  in  this  relation, 
as  long  as  that  spent  in  actual  itinerant  labors,  I  can 
confidently  affirm  that  I  have  strictly  adhered  to  the  first 
principles  of  Methodism  in  this  matter.  I  have  never 
lost  my  love  for  its  doctrines  and  Discipline,  or  my  faith 
in  the  efficiency  of  its  ecclesiastical  economy.  Its  itin- 
erancy I  believe  to  be  better  adapted  than  any  other 
system  of  ministerial  economy  to  "spread  Scriptural 
holiness"  throughout  the  world. 

The  "local"  ministry  of  the  Methodist  Church  has 
done  much  to  establish  Methodism  in  the  Land.  The 
"traveling"  preachers  were  evangelists  in  their  labors, 
and  pastors  properly  in  office,  but,  from  the  necessities 
of  their  work,  unable  to  give  much  personal  supervision 
to  the  details  of  the  pastorate.  They  were  therefore 
dependent  upon  the  local  preachers  and  class-leaders  for 
the  care  of  the  Churches  in  their  absence.  The  local 
preachers  also  "pioneered"  the  way  into  neighborhoods 
where  the  traveling  preachers  could  not  go,  and  many 
districts  of  country  were  supplied  with  Sunday  preach- 
ing that  would  otherwise  have  been  left  without  the 
Word  of  Life.  While  sustaining  the  superannuated  rela- 
tion, which  is  practically  that  of  a  local  preacher,  I  have 
endeavored  to  improve  my  time  and  talents  in  the  vine- 
yard of  the  Lord  as  a  minister;  and  now,  when  my  day 
of  labor  is  near  its  close,  I  can  truly  say  that  I  have 
enjoyed  much  comfort  in  my  ministrations.  I  should 
have  preferred  active  ministerial  relation  to  the  Con- 
ference. It  was  in  my  heart  to  live  and  die  in  the 
itinerancy;  but  God  willed  it  otherwise,  and  I  am  con- 
tent, believing  that  all  things  have  been  ordered  for 
the  best. 


34  REV.  JOHN  TEVIS. 

March  10,  1858.  The  ninth  and  tenth  days  of  this 
month  are  anniversaries  of  the  most  memorable  events  in 
my  life.  On  the  ninth  day  of  March,  1824,  which  was 
also  the  anniversary  of  my  father's  birth,  I  was  united  in 
the  bonds  of  holy  matrimony  with  my  dear  wife,  who 
still  lives,  to  enjoy  life  and  cheer  me  with  her  love  and 
companionship.  We  have  traveled,  long  and  pleasantly, 
the  path  of  life  together.  Our  way  has  been  "ordered" 
by  the  Lord.  All  our  changes  have  been  of  his  appoint- 
ment, and  we  can  truly  say,  "Goodness  and  mercy  have 
followed  us  all  the  days  of  our  lives."  God  has  bestowed 
worldly  goods  upon  us — given  us  friends  and  children ; 
for  all  which  I  sincerely  thank  him. 

The  loth  day  of  March,  1815,  I  left  my  father's  house 
to  become  a  wandering  messenger  of  mercy  to  my  fellow- 
men.  For  nine  years  I  "gladly  wandered  to  and  fro," 
pitching  my  moving  tent  among  strangers.  I  do  not 
regret  the  choice  I  made  of  a  profession.  I  thank  God 
that  he  "thought  me  worthy,  putting  me  into  the  min- 
istry." I  regret  that  my  labors  have  not  been  tenfold 
more  abundant,  but  nothing  painful  disturbs  the  tran- 
quillity of  this  review.  One  feeling  pervades  my  whole 
being:  it  is  profound  gratitude  »to  God  for  all  his  mani- 
fold mercy  to  me  and  mine. 

"  O,  to  grace  how  great  a  debtor 
Daily  I  'm  constrained  to  be ! 
Let  thy  goodness,  like  a  fetter, 
Bind  my  wandering  heart  to  thee." 

As  the  evening  of  life  draws  on,  and  the  infirmities 
of  age  press  upon  me,  my  thoughts  turn  more  towards 
the  future — towards  my  eternal  home.  Age  has  brought 
infirmities  and  decay  upon  my  body,  but  no  decay  affects 
my  faith  in  God  or  hope  in  immortality.  My  spiritual 


A  UTOBIO  GRAPHY.  3  5 

enjoyments  were  never  greater  than  at  this  present  time. 
"Thanks  be  to  God,  who  giveth  us  the  victory  through 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ."  "Unto  him  that  loved  us,  and 
washed  us  from  our  sins  in  his  own  blood;  to  him  be 
glory  and  dominion  for  ever  and  ever.  Amen." 


©tttuarg. 

IN  1857  Mr.  Tevis  suffered  a  slight  stroke  of  paralysis, 
from  which,  however,  he  so  far  recovered  after  a  few 
few  months,  as  to  be  able  to  go  about;  and,  in  1859, 
attended  the  session  of  the  Kentucky  Annual  Confer- 
ence. His  feeble  health  alarmed  his  friends,  and  strongly 
admonished  him  that  his  end  was  drawing  near.  Still 
hope  comforted  his  anxious  family  with  the  promise  of 
returning  health  and  strength;  but  the  summons  had 
been  issued,  and  in  August,  1860,  the  angel  of  death 
again  smote  him,  prostrating  mind  and  body.  His  power 
of  articulation  was  limited  to  monosyllables,  and  that 
in  an  under  tone.  For  several  months  previous  to  his 
release  from  sorrow  and  suffering,  he  was  confined  entirely 
to  the  bed.  It  is  cause  of  thankfulness  that,  though 
helpless  and  speechless,  he  suffered  but  little  pain.  He 
slept  sweetly  every  night,  as  an  infant  in  its  mother's 
arms.  Thus  peacefully  and  quietly  the  angels  carried 
him  down  to  the  margin  of  the  dark  river,  which  he 
crossed  on  the  26th  day  of  January,  1861,  aged  sixty- 
nine  years  and  twenty  days. 

He  received  the  holy  communion  on  the  Sabbath  pre- 
ceding his  death,  and  at  this  Last  Supper  seemed  to  ' '  eat 
and  drink  after  a  heavenly  and  spiritual  manner."  Thus 
died  one  of  the  best  men  in  the  land. 

"Servant  of  God,  well  done! 

Rest  from  thy  loved  employ ; 
The  battle  fought,  the  victory  won, 
Enter  thy  Master's  joy." 

W.  G.  E.  C. 


$ixty  Yek,f£  it\ 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


OF 


MRS.  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 


OF 


MRS.  JULIA  A.  TEVIS, 

of  j&xty  Yekt$  ir\  &  $cl\ool-f(ooiri. 


CHAPTER  I. 

I  HAVE  arrived  at  that  period  of  life  from  which  I  can 
look  back  with  a  calm  and  grateful  heart  upon  the 
various  and  shifting  scenes  through  which  I  have  passed ; 
and  I  now  undertake  to  record,  for  the  gratification  of  my 
family  and  immediate  friends,  the  recollections  so  clearly 
and  deeply  impressed  upon  my  memory.  I  begin  the 
review  under  a  profound  sense  of  God's  goodness,  which 
has  rendered  every  trial,  thus  far  encountered  in  the 
journey  of  life,  subservient  to  my  everlasting  welfare.  I 
can  not  doubt  that  the  peace  of  mind  which  sustained  me 
under  the  most  sorrowful  bereavements,  and  the  sweet, 
calm  sunshine  that  now  warms  and  cheers  my  heart,  are 
pledges  of  that  perfect  rest  after  which  my  longing  soul 
aspires,  and  into  which  I  hope  to  enter  through  the  merits 
of  my  gracious  Redeemer. 

Guided  by  a  conscientious  fidelity  to  truth  in  every 
particular,  a  charitable  regard  for  the  opinions  and  feel- 
ings of  all  who  may  be  in  any  way  interested  in  what  I 
say,  and  with  a  fervent  prayer  for  divine  assistance,  I 
commence  my  narrative. 


40  JULIA  A.  TEVIS, 

I  was  born  December  5,  1799,  in  Clarke  County, 
Kentucky.  My  grand-parents,  on  both  sides,  were  among 
the  earliest  emigrants  from  Virginia  into  this  State. 
Their  location  in  the  vicinity  of  Boonesboro  brought 
them  into  familiar  intercourse  and  companionship  with 
Daniel  Boone;  and  my  maternal  grandfather,  Ambrose 
Bush,  with  his  four  brothers,  were  among  the  most  cele- 
brated of  the  old  "Indian  fighters."  Their  numerous 
descendants  were  scattered  over  so  large  a  portion  of 
Clarke  County  as  to  give  it  the  name  of  "Bush's  Settle- 
ment." Thrifty  and  respectable  farmers,  they  occupied  a 
position  in  society  both  honorable  and  useful.  The  same 
may  be  said  of  my  father's  ancestors,  who  were  Germans, 
as  the  name  Hieronymous  will  suggest. 

My  paternal  grandfather,  with  an  elder  brother,  came 
to  America  before  the  Revolutionary  War,  and  settled 
in  the  eastern  part  of  Virginia.  They  were  from  Vienna, 
and  thoroughly  German  in  many  respects;  particularly  in 
an  obstinacy  of  character,  which  evinced  itself  in  firmness 
of  purpose  and  industrious  habits.  My  grandmother  was 
also  of  German  descent,  though  born  in  America.  The 
brother  of  my  grandfather  returned  to  Germany  at  the 
close  of  the  Revolutionary  War  to  get  possession  of  their 
portion  of  their  father's  estate.  He  turned  into  money 
what  he  obtained  in  Germany,  set  sail  for  America,  and, 
after  many  reverses,  encountering  storm  and  tempest 
during  a  long,  disastrous  voyage,  reached  home.  But  a 
change  had  come  over  his  spirit;  for,  as  the  story  goes,  he 
spoke  not  a  word  to  any  one  for  fourteen  years  after  his 
return.  A  few  days  before  his  death  he  exclaimed,  as  he 
fired  a  pistol  from  his  window,  "The  devil's  in  fourteen." 
The  reason  why  my  queer  old  uncle  should  have  thus  re- 
tired within  himself,  no  one  could  ever  tell;  but  conjecture 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  41 

said,  he  had  been  crossed  in  his  German  love,  or  else  had 
lost  his  chest  of  money  in  coming  over  the  seas.  The  idea 
of  crossing  the  ocean  at  that  time,  on  a  steamship,  would 
have  been  as  much  ridiculed  as  the  Irish  gentleman's  prop- 
osition to  go  hunting  by  the  steam  of  his  own  tea-kettle. 

My  grandfather's  perverseness  was  often  exhibited  in 
taking  his  saddle-bags  on  his  shoulders  when  he  went 
to  town,  and  leading  his  horse;  or  taking  off  his  shoes 
and  stockings,  and  wading  the  Kentucky  River  when  it 
was  low,  that  his  horse  might  not  have  the  trouble  of 
carrying  him  over.  My  father's  name  was  Pendleton, 
and  the  name  of  one  of  his  brothers,  Benjamin;  but  my 
grandfather,  disdaining  even  to  make  the  effort  to  speak 
plain  English, — though,  it  was  said,  he  spoke  well  several 
European  languages — would  always  call  my  father  "Ben- 
dleton,"  and  my  uncle  "Penny."  One  of  his  amia- 
bilities was  to  walk  over  my  tidy  grandmother's  nicely 
waxed  floors  with  his  muddy  shoes,  chuckling  with  de- 
light at  the  discomfiture  of  the  maid-servant,  as  she  fol- 
lowed him  with  a  floor-cloth  by  my  grandmother's  orders. 
He  was  very  fond  of  hunting,  frequently  shouldering  his 
shot-gun  in  the  morning,  and  wandering  for  hours  through 
the  woods  squirrel  hunting,  followed  only  by  a  little  boy. 
When  he  saw  a  squirrel  at  which  he  intended  to  take 
aim,  he  invariably  set  his  gun  down  while  he  took  a  pinch 
of  snuff;  meanwhile  talking  to  the  squirrel:  "Joost  you 
stay  there  till  I  takes  mine  binch  of  snuff,  and  den  I 
prings  you  down,  be  sure,  mit  te  teufel  to  ye."  The 
squirrel  did  not  wait,  of  course;  and  the  fact  is,  he  was 
never  known  to  bring  any  game  home  with  him,  though 
he  expended  much  powder  and  shot. 

My  grand-parents,  on  my  mother's  side,  were  as  En- 
glish as  those  on  the  other  side  were  German.  My 


42  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

Grandmother  Bush  was  a  strictly  pious  Baptist;  my 
grandmother  Hieronymus,  a  Methodist  of  the  old  school,  a 
real  Wesleyan,  thoroughly  and  decidedly  religious.  Alas, 
we  seldom  meet  with  such  now!  My  soul  longingly  in- 
quires for  the  old  paths,  that  I  may  walk  therein.  I 
remember  my  grandmother  Bush  more  distinctly,  as  much 
of  my  time  between  the  ages  of  four  and  seven  was  spent 
with  her.  Like  gleams  of  light  come  up  now  my  joyous 
Saturday  evenings  and  Sundays  at  the  old  homestead,  and 
the  many  dear,  merry,  warm-hearted  cousins,  with  whom 
I  so  often  played  "Mrs.  Bush,"  or  "Lady  come  to 
see" — the  Bushes  being  so  numerous  that  we  had  no  idea 
but  that  they  rilled  the  world.  Our  world  they  did  fill. 
I  can  even  now  see,  in  the  dim,  shadow)^  distance, 
the  tall,  queenly  form  of  my  grandmother,  simply  attired 
in  a  dove-colored  dress  and  plain  white  kerchief,  with  a 
cap  faultless  in  shape,  and  of  snowy  whiteness,  setting 
off  the  most  benevolent  of  features.  I  can  hear  her  quick 
step,  and  sweet  voice  calling,  "Jennie,  Julia,  Esther, 
Polly!" — her  four  daughters;  for  when  she  wanted  one 
she  never  failed  to  call  them  all  over  before  she  could 
get  the  right  name.  And  from  habitual  quickness  of 
thought,  word,  and  action,  she  often  made  a  laughable 
pell-mell  of  words.  When  she  called  for  her  black  mare 
to  be  saddled — for  every  body  rode  on  horseback  in  those 
days,  there  being  nothing  more  than  bridle-paths — it  was, 
"Warrick,  run  up  the  black  mare,  bring  down  the  back- 
stairs, and  put  my  saddle  on  it;  quick,  quick,  for  I  must 
go  to  Sister  Franky's  right  away."  And  how  often  have 
I  ridden  to  the  stone  meeting-house  behind  her  on  that 
same  black  mare,  and  walked  over  and  around  the  church- 
yard where  now  my  beloved  grand-parents  lie  buried, 
with  many  of  their  descendants! 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  43 

Grandfather  was  often  away  from  home,  on  the  "war- 
path," for  days  and  weeks  at  a  time.  During  his  absence 
my  grandmother  kept  her  little  ones  about  her,  and  never 
failed  to  commend  them  to  God  in  family  prayer,  night 
and  morning.  She  was  gifted  with  a  fine  voice,  and  I 
never  heard  her  sing  any  thing  but  hymns.  Often  have 
I  heard  my  mother  relate  thrilling  stories  about  Indians, 
panthers,  and  wolves,  that  came  stealthily  around  the 
solitary  dwellings,  their  approach  undiscovered,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  dense  cane-brake,  until  their  gleaming 
eyes,  peering  through  the  unchinked  walls,  aroused  the 
family  to  a  terrible  consciousness  of  danger.  But  never 
did  they  seem  able  to  molest  that  charmed  circle  within, 
guarded  as  it  was  by  constant  prayer.  Indians  would 
steal  the  horses,  and  fly ;  wild  beasts  found  some  other 
prey,  and  departed. 

At  the  time  that  my  grandfather,  with  his  brothers 
and  sister,  came  to  Kentucky,  many  families  traveled  to- 
gether for  mutual  safety  and  protection  against  .the  Indians, 
whose  hunting-grounds  extended  to  the  border  settle- 
ments of  Virginia.  On  their  way  through  the  wilderness 
they  encountered  bears,  buffaloes,  wolves,  wild-cats,  and 
sometimes  herds  of  deer.  Thus  they  moved  cautiously 
onward,  in  long  lines,  through  a  narrow  bridle-path,  so 
encumbered  with  brush  and  underwood  as  to  impede 
their  progress,  and  render  it  necessary  that  they  should 
sometimes  encamp  for  days,  in  order  to  rest  their  weary 
pack-horses  and  forage  for  themselves. 

A  space  of  country  that  can  be  passed  over  now  in 
less  than  ten  days,  leisurely,  was  then  a  journey  of  many 
weeks,  and  sometimes  months.  I  have  heard  interesting 
anecdotes  related  connected  with  the  emigration  of  my 
grandfather's  family  through  this  wilderness.  When  they 


44  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

tarried,  even  for  a  day  or  a  night,  pickets  were  thrown 
out,  and  every  pass  was  guarded  vigilantly,  lest  haply 
some  lurking  foe  might  invade  the  camp.  None  dared 
to  speak  aloud,  and  generally  the  horses'  feet  were  muf- 
fled, for  fear  of  attracting  attention.  No  camp-fires  were 
lighted ;  and  when~  night  dropped  her  dark  curtains 
around  the  weary  travelers  some  rested  or  slept,  while 
others  gazed  in  death -like  stillness  upon  the  sparkling 
firmament,  or  listened  to  the  music  of  streamlet  and 
breeze,  occasionally  starting  at  the  rustling  of  a  leaf — 
any  thing  that  broke  the  solemn  silence  striking  terror 
to  the  heart. 

Once,  after  having  passed  over  many  miles  without 
interruption,  the  travelers  grew  careless,  and  scattered 
groups  pursued  their  way  without  apprehension.  One 
family,  being  considerably  in  advance,  was  entirely  sepa- 
rated from  the  company.  Several  hours  had  elapsed 
without  one  of  them  being  seen  by  those  in  the  rear. 
Night  came  on;  the  stars  shone  in  full  glory,  shedding  a 
hazy  light  on  a  few  of  the  nearer  objects,  but  added  to 
the  dimness  and  uncertainty  of  every  thing  beyond.  The 
profound  silence  was  broken  only  by  the  restlessness  of  the 
tethered  horses,  or  the  low  murmuring  in  dreams  of  the 
disturbed  sleepers.  So  intense  was  the  stillness  that  an 
imaginary  noise  more  than  once  startled  the  guards  into 
an  apprehension  of  a  night  attack,  deepening  the  ominous 
silence,  and  quickening  the  light  step  of  the  sentinel  as 
he  made  his  lonely  round. 

The  report  of  a  gun  was  heard,  and  then  another, 
followed  by  the  fierce  war-whoop  of  the  savage.  Some 
of  the  young  men,  dashing  rapidly  onward,  soon  reached 
a  spot  where,  in  the  gray  light  of  the  dawn,  a  scene  of 
horror  presented  itself,  not  uncommon  in  those  perilous 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  45 

times.  A  party  of  Indians  had  come  upon  the  family 
stealthily,  and,  after  a  fierce  struggle,  had  fled  precipi- 
tately, with  all  the  plunder  they  could  carry.  The  light- 
footed,  mysterious  enemy  had  left  the  impress  of  his  hand 
on  the  dead  and  dying,  scattered  in  every  direction.  One 
young  girl,  about  fourteen,  had  been  scalped,  and  left  for 
dead  in  a  deep  ravine.  She  had  only  swooned;  and  her 
brother,  after  the  fray  was  over,  seeing  something  in  the 
dim  distance  that  looked  like  an  animal,  creeping  slowly 
towards  them  through  the  bushes,  raised  his  gun  to  fire, 
when  he  saw  a  human  hand  uplifted  in  an  imploring  atti- 
tude. In  a  few  minutes  more  he  discovered  it  to  be  his 
sister,  crawling  on  her  hands  and  knees,  her  face  com- 
pletely covered  by  her  matted  hair.  As  he  drew  near 
she  threw  back  her-hair,  and,  uttering  the  word  "brother," 
fainted  in  his  arms.  She  had  been  scalped,  but  not  deeply 
wounded,  and  her  only  permanent  loss  was  a  portion  of 
the  skin  of  her  head,  rudely  torn  off  by  the  firm  grasp 
of  an  Indian.  This  young  girl  lived  to  reach  Kentucky, 
grew  up  into  womanhood,  married,  and  became  the 
mother  of  a  number  of  sons  and  daughters, — a  proof  that 
scalping  alone  does  not  necessarily  produce  death.  •*** 

One  circumstance,  often  related  to  me,  forcibly  illus- 
trates the  keen  instinct  of  the  panther.  My  grandfather 
had  been  out  on  a  hunt  for  many  days.  Weary  eyes 
and  anxious  hearts  were  watching  and  waiting  his  return. 
It  was  midsummer,  and  the  tall  cane,  with  its  gracefully 
waving  leaves,  excluded  the  view  of  every  object  not  in 
the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  lonely  and  scattered  dwell- 
ings. About  sunset,  one  lovely  afternoon,  my  grand- 
mother, with  her  faithful  handmaiden,  "Mourning,"  set 
out  to  fetch  some  water  from  the  spring,  which,  though 

at  no   great  distance   from  the  house,  was  hidden  from 

4 


46  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

sight.  Always  in  mortal  fear  of  ambushed  Indians, 
they  were  walking  slowly  along  when  startled  by  the 
familiar  sound  of  the  lost  hunter's  cry  of  "hoo-hoo," 
which  was  suppressed  at  intervals,  as  if  listening  for  a 
response  to  assure  him  that  he  was  in  the  neighborhood 
of  home  and  loved  ones.  My  grandmother  answered,  as 
she  was  wont  to  do,  while  her  heart  thrilled  with  the 
joyful  anticipation  of  meeting  her  returning  husband. 
"Hoo-hoo,"  in  a  loud  voice,  was  again  heard,  and  again 
responded  to — each  time  seeming  nearer  and  more  dis- 
tinct; when,  just  as  they  emerged  from  the  thicket,  and 
and  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  shelving  rock  that  over- 
arched the  spring,  they  perceived  something  moving 
among  the  bushes  above.  At  first  they  supposed  it  to 
be  nothing  more  than  a  raccoon  or  an  opossum,  but  it 
proved  to  be  a  panther.  This  animal,  when  stimulated 
by  hunger,  would  assail  whatever  would  provide  him 
with  a  banquet  of  blood.  Lo !  there  he  stood,  on  the 
rock  high  above  the  spring,  squatting  on  his  hind-legs,  in 
the  attitude  of  preparing  to  leap — his  glaring  eyeballs 
fierce  with  expectation.  His  gray  coat,  extended  claws, 
fiery  eyes,  and  the  cry  which  he  at  that  moment  uttered, 
rendered  by  its  resemblance  to  the  human  voice  pecul- 
iarly terrific,  denoted  him  to  be  the  most  ferocious  of  his 
detested  kind.  My  grandmother,  whose  presence  of 
mind  never  forsook  her,  even  under  the  most  appalling 
circumstances,  retreated  slowly,  keeping  her  eyes  steadily 
fixed  on  the  eyes  of  the  monster,  which  seemed  mo- 
mentarily paralyzed  by  her  gaze,  until  she  and  the  negro 
girl  could  turn  by  a  sudden  angle  into  the  woods,  when, 
adding  "wings  to  their  speed,"  they  soon  reached  the 
house,  and  barred  the  door  behind  them. 

I  do  not  wish  to  give  the  impression  that  the  name 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  47 

of  Bush  is  entitled  to  any  patronymic  distinction,  or  that 
any  branch  of  the  family  claim  nobility ;  nevertheless,  they 
came  from  a  pure  and  ancient  stock,  upon  whose  bright 
escutcheon  no  stain  had  ever  rested.  It  had  never  been 
legally  disgraced,  and  never  forfeited  its  claims  to  respect 
and  consideration.  The  family  was  originally  English,  as 
I  have  already  stated,  and  the  tradition  among  them  is 
that  the  founder  of  the  American  branch,  John  Bush, 
came  over  among  the,  first  settlers  of  Jamestown,  and  was 
the  friend  and  companion  of  Captain  John  Smith. 

My  great-grandfather,  Philip  Bush,  possessed  a  large 
landed  estate.  His  eight  sons  and  four  daughters  were 
matrimonially  connected  with  some  of  the  most  distin- 
guished families  in  the  "Old  Dominion."  My  Grand- 
father Ambrose,  the  youngest  child  save  one,  married  a 
Gholson — a  family  from  whence  originated  statesmen  and 
orators.  My  great-uncle,  Billy  Bush,  came  to  Kentucky 
with  Daniel  Boone  on  his  second  trip.  He  was  fortunate 
in  securing  the  fairest  portion  of  the  land  in  Clarke 
County,  by  warrants  and  otherwise,  extending  from  Win- 
chester to  Boonesborough.  He  gave  away,  or  sold  for  a 
trifle,  farm  after  farm  to  his  friends  and  relatives,  that 
they  might  be  induced  to  settle  near  him.  These  seemed 
so  well  satisfied  with  the  Goshen  of  their  choice  that  even 
their  descendants  had  no  disposition  to  emigrate,  nor, 
indeed,  to  enter  the  arena  of  public  life.  Thus  they 
continued  their  pastoral  and  farming  occupations,  ' '  length- 
ening their  cords  and  strengthening  their  stakes;"  marry- 
ing and  intermarrying  with  the  families  in  the  vicinity,  as 
well  as  among  their  own  kindred,  until  the  relationship 
can  scarcely  be  traced  to  a  vanishing  point.  There  are 
the  Quisenburys,  the  Vivians,  the  Elkins,  the  Gentrys, 
the  Embrys,  the  Bushes,  etc. — all  uncles,  aunts,  or 


48  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

cousins;  and  at  one  time  you  might  travel  for  miles 
without  being  out  of  the  favored  circle. 

When  I  can  first  recollect  it  was  a  community  of  Bap- 
tists, and  they  all  worshiped  at  the  stone  meeting-house 
on  Howard's  Creek.  There  is  an  interest  attached  to  this 
old  church  that  deserves  mention.  It  is,  probably,  the 
first  Baptist  church  built  in  Kentucky,  and  its  foundations 
are  laid  deep  and  strong,  though  not  large  and  wide.  A 
community  of  Baptists,  living  on  the  Holston  River,  in 
Virginia,  determined  to  emigrate  to  Kentucky  in  1780. 
The  ruling  elder,  Rev.  Mr.  Vinton,  was  their  leader. 
They  passed  through  much  tribulation,  and  finally  reached 
their  destination,  but  had  no  permanent  place  of  worship 
until  the  stone  church  referred  to  was  erected,  and  called 
"Providence."  The  Rev.  Robert  Elkin  was  their  pastor 
for  forty-two  years.  Among  the  most  prominent  mem- 
bers for  a  long  period  were  my  grand-parents,  who  lived 
to  see  many  of  their  descendants  baptized  into  the  same 
Church.  I  visited  the  neighborhood  in  1824,  and  found 
attached  to  that  congregation  thirteen  widow  Bushes. 
During  the  past  Summer,  1864,  I  had  the  privilege  of 
entering  within  its  hallowed  walls,  and  hearing  an  ex- 
cellent sermon  from  a  Reformed  Baptist  minister.  The 
Reformers  preach  on  alternate  Sundays  with  the  old  Bap- 
tists, and  the  two  congregations  worship  together,  gener- 
ally without  any  disagreement. 

The  old  church  is  in  good  condition.  We  reach  it 
through  a  lovely  blue-grass  region,  dotted  with  stately 
mansions,  rendered  attractive  by  green  lawns  and  mag- 
nificent old  sugar-trees,  through  whose  foliage  the  sun- 
light, streaming  down,  covers  the  ground  with  enchanting 
figures  of  light  and  shade.  The  rugged  hills  surrounding 
the  creek  present  a  striking  contrast  to  the  green  valleys 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  49 

where  Summer  sleeps  upon  beds  of  roses.  Now  and 
then  a  simple  cottage  is  seen  sparkling  like  a  diamond  in 
its  granite  cup;  or  on  the  top  of  some  green  and  goodly 
hill  a  dwelling,  white  and  fair,  gleaming  through  depths 
of  the  richest  verdure.  In  a  lovely  nook,  nestled  among 
the  rock  hills  of  the  creek,  stands  the  house  of  a  dear 
old  relative,  with  whose  family  I  was  privileged  to  spend 
a  few  hours  during  my  recent  visit — a  golden  link  in  the 
chain  of  reminiscences  binding  me  to  the  past.  What  a 
tide  of  sweet  memories  swept  over  me  as  I  listened  and 
learned  again  the  oft-repeated  histories  of  my  childhood's 
rosy  hours;  and  stood  once  more  in  the  graveyard, 
where,  amid  crumbling  gravestones,  rested  the  bodies 
of  so  many  that  I  had  known  and  loved  in  early  life. 
What  changes  had  passed  over  Kentucky  since  my 
grand-parents  were  deposited  in  that  quiet  resting-place! 
Their  tombstones  are  hoary  with  age  and  crumbling  into 
dust;  but  affection  keeps  the  spot  green  with  fresh 
memorials.  Flowers  bloom  in  loveliness  around  them. 
The  sweetbrier  sends  forth  its  fragrance,  and  Summer 
roses  are  found  there  gushing  with  dewy  sweetness. 

Of  my  old  Uncle  Billy  a  word,  and  I  am  done  with 
this  subject,  rendered  somewhat  tedious  by  the  clinging 
fondness  of  my  own  recollections.  This  famous  old  In- 
dian fighter,  after  having  suffered,  in  common  with  the 
rest  of  the  settlers,  many  privations,  and  having  endured 
much,  found  himself  with  but  a  few  hundred  acres  of  that 
vast  domain  he  had  fought  to  defend.  He  had  munifi- 
cently given  away  much,  and  was,  probably,  bereft  of 
some  by  defective  titles.  He  spent  his  latter  years  in  the 
visionary  pursuit  of  silver  mines,  which  he  never  found. 
Like  the  mirage  in  the  desert  they  eluded  his  grasp — 
forever  and  forever  vanishing  as  the  spot  was  neared. 


SQ  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

The  glittering  prize  proved  a  "glorious  cheat;"  but  it 
kept  up  its  delusions,  until  "the  silver  chord  was  loosed 
and  the  golden  bowl  was  broken,"  and  the  poor  old  man 
found  a  resting-place  beneath  Kentucky  soil,  with  many 
other  patriarchs  of  the  infant  State. 

We  look  now  to  the  soil  where  grazes  the  peaceful 
flock,  when  Summer  shakes  her  sparkling  Avreath,  and 
sheds  her  luster  over  the  blooming  landscape ;  to  the 
fields,  where  wave  the  golden  harvests ;  to  the  air  above, 
where  play  the  wings  of  the  low-flighted  swallow ;  and  to 
the  woods,  where  the  passing  wheels  denote  the  course 
of  men,  and  ask,  Can  this  be  so?  Yes,  over  all  these 
former  hunting-grounds  of  a  race  fast  fading  away  from 
this  glorious  country,  once  all  their  own,  not  a  vestige  is 
now  to  be  seen. 

How  dreary,  how  sad  our  emotions,  when  we  reflect 
on  the  multiplied  hundreds  of  these  poor,  untaught  chil- 
dren of  the  forest,  hurried  into  the  eternal  world  by  their 
pale-faced  brethren,  who  wrested  from  them  all  they 
loved,  and  usurped  their  hunting-grounds  without  once 
offering  them  the  pipe  of  peace! 

I  recollect  what  an  inexpressible  feeling  of  awe  crept 
over  my  childish  spirit,  as  I  listened  to  the  veteran 
pioneers  telling  their  exploits  with  the  Indians,  and 
recounting  with  peculiar  zest  their  perils,  their  bloody 
struggles,  their  hair-breadth  escapes,  and  their  victories. 
The  whites  scarcely  ever  took  prisoners ;  they  considered 
it  safer  to  dispatch  them  at  once  to  another  world.  My 
heart-bubbling  laughter  was  stilled,  and  my  childish  sports 
forgotten,  as,  listening,  I  crept  closer  to  my  grandmother's 
side.  Once  sole  lords  of  a  rich  and  almost  boundless 
country,  they  have  been  crowded  farther  and  farther  from 
their  sunny  homes,  farther  from  the  noble  rivers  they  so 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  51 

much  loved,  and  the  blue  Atlantic,  upon  whose  waves 
they  thought  many  a  good  spirit  dwelt.  Some  of  them 
calmly  submitted  to  their  fate,  and  after  the  last  struggle 
over  the  graves  of  their  kindred — a  spot  ever  venerated 
by  the  red  man — departed  never  to  return.  Others 
fought  long  and  desperately,  choosing  rather  to  die 
within  sight  of  their  homes. 

The  whole  State  of  Kentucky  was  then  a  perfect 
jungle  of  beautiful  luxuriance ;  and  to  the  admiring  eyes 
of  the  new  settlers  another  Eden,  with  its  green  glories 
of  cane-brake — which,  in  some  places,  grew  twenty  feet 
high — and  forest,  crystal  streams  and  laughing  skies ;  its 
luxuriant  corn-fields  and  blue-grass  woodland  pastures. 
No  wonder  our  good  old  preacher,  with  his  own  pecu- 
liar quaintness,  when  describing  the  beauties  of  heaven, 
called  it  "a  fair  Kentucky  of  a  place."  To  the  early  set- 
tlers it  appeared  a  fairy-land.  Leaf-embowered  streams, 
whose  laughing  waters  danced  over  polished  pebbles,  that 
glittered  in  the  sunlight  like  diamonds;  hill  and  dale, 
mountain  and  glade,  varied  the  scene  to  the  charmed  eye 
of  the  huntsman,  as  he  wandered  through  the  thick 
forests  under  a  canopy  of  softest  blue,  while  the  lofty 
trees  sang  a  pleasant  melody  at  the  bidding  of  the  balmy, 
flower-laden  breeze.  No  wonder  that  the  tales  of  the 
past,  which  now  in  memory  dwell,  are  full  of  mythical 
fancies,  arising  from  those  deep  and  beautiful  solitudes, 
where — 

"All  the  boundless  store  of  charms, 
Which  Nature  to  her  votary  yields, 
The  pomp  of  grove,  and  garniture  of  fields," 

fills  the  heart  with  emotions  of  love  and  gratitude  to  that 
great  and  good  Being  who  created  this  earthly  paradise, 
as  if  to  reflect  the  glories  of  that  world  of  light  and  love, 


52  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

where  silvery  vales  and  glittering  streams,  green  fields, 
and  budding  flowers,  "forever  arid  forever  rise."  The 
land  was  beautiful  in  its  native  simplicity,  and  became 
more  and  more  fascinating  as  discovery  after  discovery 
unveiled  to  the  admiring  eye  of  her  settlers  much  con- 
cealed treasure.  Her  mountains  contain  unbounded  min- 
eral wealth.  Her  presiding  genius,  doubtless,  sits  en- 
throned in  the  mysterious  depths  of  some  jewel-lit  cave. 
Her  marble  walls,  rising  in  grandeur  on  the  shores  of  the 
Kentucky  and  Dicks  Rivers,  are  not  less  objects  of 
curiosity  than  her  Mammoth  Cave,  of  world-wide  celeb- 
rity. Variety  of  productions  and  mildness  of  climate 
appropriately  render  her  the  Italy  of  North  America. 

In  the  early  part  of  the  present  century,  the  cot- 
ton fields  in  Clarke  County  yielded  enough  of  the  best 
quality  of  cotton  to  supply  the  wants  of  every  family; 
and  while  tobacco  was  the  staple  of  the  State,  rich  har- 
vests of  wheat,  extensive  corn-fields,  and  every  variety 
of  cereal  gladdened  the  happy  farmer  with  the  conscious- 
ness of  a  bountiful  provision  for  his  family.  Sugar  was 
made  in  abundance  from  the  maple,  whole  groves  of 
which  were  found  in  Kentucky  before  the  utilitarian  ax 
of  the  woodman  laid  them  prostrate,  to  give  place  to  the 
more  useful  blue  grass.  One  of  these  groves,  on  my 
grandfather's  place,  contained  a  thousand  trees,  many 
of  which  are  still  standing.  The  sugar-making  time  in 
February,  when  the  rich  sap  began  to  flow  abundantly, 
was  a  glorious  time,  and  long  looked  forward  to  with  as 
much  delight  as  Christmas.  A  regular  encampment  on 
the  ground  made  a  pleasant  home  for  the  two  weeks 
devoted  to  this  gypsy  life.  The  children,  including  the 
little  negroes — and  there  were  swarms  of  them — to  use 
their  own  words,  "toted"  sugar  water  in  their  tiny  pails, 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  53 

hour  after  hour,  and  were  amply  rewarded  when  the 
sugar  was  in  its  transition  state  of  waxy  consistency 
with  as  much  as  they  could  eat.  My  grandmother's 
sugar -chest  was  every  year  filled  with  grained  maple 
sugar,  whiter  and  purer  than  that  made  from  the  cane; 
while  a  great  quantity  was  put  up  in  cakes  for  eating — 
like  candy ;  and  as  much  molasses  was  reserved  as  would 
abundantly  supply  the  family  until  sugar-making  time 
came  round  again. 

And  now,  while  I  write,  I  can  see  the  camp-fires 
lighted,  the  dusky  figures  passing  and  repassing,  groups 
of  happy  children  laughing  and  shouting  as  they  bring 
in  their  contributions  of  crystal  water  for  the  steaming 
boilers.  I  almost  inhale  the  delicious  breath  of  an  atmos- 
phere, redolent  with  a  freshness  and  purity  never  known 
in  the  crowded  haunts  of  men.  I  have  counted  nearly 
sixty  years  since  those  days  of  unmingled  joyousness, 
yet  still  the  memory  of  that  time  is  green,  when  I  played 
beneath  the  boughs  of  the  lofty  maple-tree,  at  whose 
roots  grew  the  fresh  moss,  clustered  with  tiny  blue 
flowers,  or  wandered  through  avenues  of  papaw  bushes, 
as  I  wended  my  way  from  my  father's  house  to  the  dear 
old  grandfather's  homestead. 


54  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 


CHAPTER  II. 

BEING  the  second  child  and  oldest  daughter,  I  was  sent 
to  a  country  school  at  a  very  early  age.  I  think  I 
was  but  four  years  old  on  that  bright  and  happy  morning 
when  my  mother,  after  filling  our  little  school-basket  with 
a  lunch  to  be  eaten  at  play-time,  sent  my  brother  and  me 
to  school.  The  dew  was  yet  upon  the  grass,  and  the 
birds  were  caroling  their  morning  hymns  as  they  flut- 
tered among  the  branches  of  the  trees  which  shaded  our 
pathway.  Ah,  well  do  I  remember  that  lovely  morning. 
How  joyously  I  tripped  along,  playing  bo-peep  with  the 
sun  as  his  golden  beams  glittered  through  a  fretwork  of 
green  above  my  head,  how  and  then  stopping  to  gather 
wild  flowers  that  seemed  too  beautiful  to  be  left  behind! 
A  little  incident,  though  not  amusing  at  the  time,  has 
afforded  much  merriment  since.  My  brother,  two  years 
my  senior,  carried  our  basket,  containing  a  square  black 
bottle  of  milk,  two  or  three  nicely  baked  Avaffles,  two 
fried  eggs,  slices  of  ham,  two  apple-turnovers,  and  but- 
tered bread,  rendered  luscious  by  being  thickly  over- 
spread with  maple-sugar.  We  had  scarcely  gone  half  our 
way — the  school-house  was  two  miles  distant  from  home — 
when  it  was  proposed  that  we  should  rest  awhile  under 
the  shade  of  a  magnificent  tree,  and  peep  into  the  basket. 
The  repast  looked  so  inviting  under  the  snowy  covering 
that  we  were  tempted  to  eat  a  portion  of  the  good  things; 
after  which  my  brother,  to  whom  the  idea  of  school  was 
not  half  so  pleasing  as  to  myself,  begged  me  to  go  back 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  55 

and  ask  permission  to  stay  from  school  that  day.  I 
agreed  to  it,  and  soon  reached  home  and  delivered  my 
message;  to  which  my  mother  replied  by  taking  my 
hand,  and,  gathering  a  switch,  she  silently  led  me  to  the 
trysting- place  where  my  brother  awaited  me;  and  after 
applying  the  rod  freely,  to  quicken  his  indolent  faculties, 
accompanied  us  to  the  log  school-house,  and  handed  us 
over  to  "the  master,"  who  seated  me  beside  one  of  the 
larger  pupils,  bidding  her  teach  "the  little  one"  her  A, 
B,  C's  from  a  board  upon  which  they  were  pasted. 

I  recollect  distinctly  the  house,  and  the  school  itself, 
which  in  its  day  was  a  model.  A  square  room,  with  a 
fireplace  large  enough  to  hold  nearly  half  a  cord  of  wood ; 
a  puncheon  floor;  hard,  rough,  wooden  benches,  without 
backs;  an  opening  in  the  wall,  of  an  oblong  form,  oppo- 
site the  door,  for  a  window,  with  crevices  enough  in 
every  direction  to  admit  a  free  circulation  of  air !  The 
furniture,  consisting  of  a  desk,  at  which  the  teacher  was 
placed,  or  rather  perched,  far  above  all  the  miserable 
little  urchins;  a  ferule,  a  rod,  and  a  pile  of  copy-books, 
complete  the  picture. 

At  twelve,  which  was  known  by  a  mark  on  the  door- 
sill — the  primitive  clock  of  our  forefathers — the  whole 
school  was  turned  out  for  a  two-hours'  recreation  and 
dinner.  Such  shouts  of  merriment !  such  ringing  laugh- 
ter! So  much  outgushing  happiness,  with  an  abundance 
of  fun  and  frolic,  unrestrained  by  hoops  and  heels,  or  the 
fear  of  soiling  delicate  costumes! 

Our  dinner  eaten,  how  heartily  we  romped,  bent 
young  saplings  for  riding-horses,  made  swings  of  the  sur- 
rounding grape-vines,  and  anon  rested  on  the  green 
sward  under  the  wide-spreading  beech-trees,  until  we  were 
not  sorry  to  hear  the  stentorian  voice  of  the  master 


56  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

calling  out,  "Books!  books!"  at  the  sound  of  which 
all  ran  eagerly  to  their  seats,  beginning  to  con  over  their 
A,  B,  C;  to  spell,  A  bit-sel-fa  (A  by  itself,  a),  b-e-l,  bel, 
Abel;  b-a,  ba,  k-e-r,  ker,  baker;  c-i-d-e-r,  der,  cider; 
while  a  class  read  aloud,  "An  old  man  found  a  rude 
boy,"  etc.;  the  teacher,  meantime,  passing  around  the 
room,  rod  in  hand,  encouraging  all  to  "say  out,"  which 
was  done  with  a  will,  and  without  any  apparent  confu- 
sion, because  each  one  minded  his  own  business  and  not 
that  of  another;  and  it  certainly  taught  the  power  of 
abstraction,  if  nothing  else. 

This  day  was  an  exponent  of  many  others — days  of 
unalloyed  happiness,  marked  by  rosy  hours,  the  beauty  of 
which  still  lingers.  The  cup  from  which  we  quaffed  pure 
nectar,  filtered  through  the  clouds  of  heaven,  contained 
no  bitter  dregs,  and  every  beaded  bubble  sparkled  with 
joy — evanescent,  indeed,  but  singing  as  it  vanished;  and 
seeming  now,  in  the  moonlight  of  other  days,  as  a  lus- 
trous pearl  on  the  brow  of  life's  young  morning. 

I  do  not  remember  how  long  I  continued  under  the 
instruction  of  Mr.  Pettichord,  my  Clarke  County  teacher, 
but  I  know  that  I  soon  learned  to  read;  and  reading 
has  been  a  passion  with  me  all  my  life,  a  source  of  so 
great  enjoyment  as  to  be  appreciated  and  understood 
by  those  who  have  enjoyed  in  like  degree  the  pleasure 
and  profit  to  be  derived  therefrom.  My  excellent  par- 
ents, being  educated  in  the  very  best  manner  that  the 
times  and  circumstances  by  which  they  were  surrounded 
afforded,  highly  appreciated  the  advantages  of  a  superior 
education,  and  determined  to  seek  for  their  children  op- 
portunities that  Kentucky  did  not  afford;  for  which  pur- 
pose they  removed  to  Virginia  when  I  was  but  seven 
years  of  age.  Whilst  my  father  was  seeking  a  suitable 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  57 

location  for  a  permanent  residence — good  schools  being' 
the  principal  object — we  spent  two  years  in  Paris,  a  pretty 
little  village  at  the  foot  of  the  Blue  Ridge,  in  Loudon 
County ;  and  there,  amidst  the  sublimest '  scenery,  of 
cloud-capped  mountains,  flowing  streams,  purified  by 
percolation  through  granite  rocks  and  snow-white  peb- 
bles; inhaling  the  pure  mountain  breeze,  untainted  by 
the  miasma  of  richer  soils  and  more  favored  climes, — our 
physical  energies  were  rapidly  developed,  and  constitu- 
tional strength  fixed  and  settled,  so  as  to  tell  for  good 
upon  my  future  health. 

Nature  here  was  beautiful  in  every  season.  The 
mountains,  those  grand  and  impressive  waymarks  of 
Deity,  though  stern  and  severe  in  character,  presented  a 
grandeur  and  magnificence  of  Winter  scenery  peculiar  to 
to  these  snowy  regions.  Dark  evergreen  foliage  dotted 
their  sides;  the  brown  leaves  of  the  forest  trees  showed 
but  sad  remains  of  Summer's  ornamental  attire;  yet  the 
verdant  moss  and  twining  ivy  still  clung  to  the  giant 
forms  of  the  gnarled  oak,  and  invested  the  less  rugged 
structure  of  the  tall  and  drooping  elm  and  the  more  del- 
icate aspen.  And  when  the  snow  covered,  with  its  spot- 
less mantle,  broad  meadow,  mountain  gorge,  and  lovely 
vale,  elegantly  ornamenting  the  trees  with  incrustations 
on  their  stouter  branches,  festooning  along  the  hedge- 
rows, or  hanging  in  full  drapery  where  it  drifted  through 
them ;  and  the  moon  shed  her  silver  light  on  the  mount- 
ain-side, turning  each  ledge  and  tree  or  ghostly  stump 
into  mysterious  apparitions  from  the  spirit-land,  —  the 
saddest,  coldest  dell  became  a  cup  of  l.ustrous  beauty, 
and  there  was  presented  the  sublimest  spectacle  ever 
given  to  this  lower  world.  Then  came  Spring,  Avhen 
primroses  peeped  from  under  withered  leaves,  whose 


58  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

sheltering  care  was  now  repaid  by  decorations  of  pale 
delicate  petals;  when  the  sweet  crocus  with  the  modest 
snowdrop,  like  maidens  in  their  gala-dresses  dancing  on 
the  green,  and  the  rich  clover,  sprinkled  the  meadows 
with  their  starry  eyes.  Summer,  with  all  its  bright  glo- 
ries, seemed  really  more  beautiful  in  sweet  Loudon  County 
than  in  any  other  spot  I  now  remember.  The  blossoms 
of  Spring  were  replaced  by  the  reddening  and  scarcely 
less  abundant  berries,  and  every  orchard  was  filled  with 
luscious  fruits.  What  a  memory  scenes  like  these  be- 
queath !  How  beautiful,  through  the  vista  of  years, 
now  seems  that  moonlight  track  upon  the  waters  of 
my  life! 

Not  the  least  in  the  happiness  of  those  times  were  our 
nuttings  in  Autumn,  when  a  stroll  was  invited  by  the 
rich,  glowing  tints  that  every-where  burnished  the  land, 
and  the  abundant  harvest  from  the  dwarf- hazel  and  chin- 
capin  bushes,  with  their  brown  treasures;  the  stately 
chestnut,  whose  clustering  burs  were  filled  with  delicious 
nuts;  and  the  majestic  oak,  dotted  with  acorns.  All,  all 
was  fruitfulness.  The  crimson  branches  of  the  red -bud 
and  the  scarlet  berries  of  the  dog-rose  showed  that, 
though  Summer  and  the  flowering  season  had  passed 
away,  yet  more  substantial  blessings  had  succeeded.  We 
crushed  the  dry  leaves  under  our  feet — we  gathered  the 
sorrel  from  under  the  ledge  of  fallen  trees;  and  this 
sorrel,  with  its  long  pointed  green  leaves,  yielded  an 
acidity  far  more  agreeable  than  costly  lemonades,  as  we 
drank  from  the  cool  mountain  spring.  Wending  our 
way  home,  weary  with  a  day's  enjoyment,  we  watched 
with  pleasure  the  gossamer  thread  whose  fine  and  wavy 
lines  were  thrown  across  our  pathway — frail  and  almost 
viewless  threads,  that  impede  no  more  than  do  the  shades 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  59 

in  which   they  lie   almost  unseen,  or  the  lingering  sun- 
beams in  which  they  glisten. 

I  have  often  fancied,  while  recalling  the  beautiful  sun- 
sets among  the  mountains  of  Virginia,  that  they  must 
surpass  those  of  Italy,  so  world -renowned.  Often,  in 
childish  admiration,  I  have  watched  the  declining  sun, 
its  fading  light  turning  the  dark  rocks  into  masses  of 
glowing  metal,  and  the  pine  woods  into  a  forest  of  spark- 
ling jewels,  "limning  and  lipping"  the  trembling  leaves 
of  the  forest  with  gold,  and  casting  outlines  on  the  back- 
ground of  glowing  fire;  and  whilst  the  glorious  orb  grad- 
ually disappeared  below  the  horizon,  rising  vapors  clus- 
tered around  the  mountain  heights,  crowning  them  with 
a  revolving  diadem;  the  bright  blue  sky  deepened  into 
purple;  the  pine-trees  put  on  a  drapery  of  black,  as  if 
to  mourn  the  departing  day;  and  in  the  dim  twilight 
was  heard  the  mountain  torrents,  chafing  over  their  stony 
channels,  without  one  glimpse  of  sunshine  to  light  them 
on  their  way;  while  ever  and  anon  a  twinkling  star  was 
seen  through  the  dense  foliage  like  a  gem  on  Night's 
dark  curtain. 

A  few  pleasing  incidents  connected  with  my  sojourn 
at  the  foot  of  the  Blue  Ridge  I  will  record. 

-When  blooming  Spring  returned  with  her  buds  and 
blossoms,  then  came  the  dancing-school,  which  was  held 
in  the  large  upper  room  of  a  water-mill,  cleared  of  its 
flour-bags  and  barrels  for  our  use.  Here  we  labored  as 
hard  all  day  on  Saturday  "to  dance  each  other  down" 
as  we  did  during  the  week  to  keep  the  place  of  honor  in 
our  literary  classes. 

At  the  close  of  the  first  quarter  in  the  dancing-school 
all  the  gentry  in  the  neighborhood  were  invited  to  an 
exhibition,  when  each  pupil  was  to  display  the  acquire- 


60  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

ments  of  the  term.  The  important  morning  arrived.  I 
Avas  dressed  in  a  full  robe  of  white  muslin,  which,  being 
a  little  too  long,  was  festooned  with  wild  flowers  and 
garden  honeysuckles,  until  short  enough  to  display  my 
"clocked"  stockings  and  sharp-toed  shoes  of  red  mo- 
rocco. After  having  performed,  for  the  twentieth  time, 
my  steps  and  pirouettes  before  a  large,  old-fashioned 
mirror  in  the  dining-room,  I  started  with  my  brother  to 
the  mill,  on  foot,  having  exchanged  my  white  stockings 
and  new  slippers  for  walking-shoes.  When  within  the 
immediate  vicinity  of  the  old  mill  I  again  donned  my 
white  stockings  and  dancing-slippers,  smoothed  my  hair, 
and  shook  out  the  folds  of  my  dress,  the  skirt  of  which 
had  been  pinned  up  by  my  careful  mother  to  avoid  con- 
tact with  dust. 

We  were  handed  in  by  our  attentive  dancing-master, 
who  was  dressed  in  the  full  costume  of  the  politest  cir- 
cles of  the  day, — neatly  fitting  small  clothes,  with  silk 
stockings  fastened  at  the  knees,  bows  of  ribbon  and 
bright  silver  buckles — corresponding  bows  and  buckles 
adorning  his  dancing-pumps.  My  brother  made  his  bow, 
and  I  courtesied  so  low  as  almost  to  lose  my  equilibrium. 
After  we  had  displayed  our  steps  in  classes,  partners 
were  selected  for  us,  and  we  danced  cotillions,  Virginia 
reels,  minuets,  and  shawl  dances,  to  the  intense  delight 
of  the  ladies  who  were  seated  around  the  room  like  wall 
flowers,  while  the  gentlemen  stood  about  in  groups. 

At  twelve  we  were  collected  on  the  green  sward  in 
the  deeply-shaded  woods,  to  share  a  rich  repast  of  good 
things  provided  by  the  neighbors  and  patrons  of  the 
school;  after  which  our  dancing  exercises  were  resumed 
and  continued  until  evening,  when  all  returned  to  their 
homes  fully  satisfied  with  the  simple  pleasures  of  the  day. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  61 

No  jealous  thoughts,  no  heart  burnings,  no  disappointed 
vanity  marred  our  happiness  or  drove  away  "Nature's 
sweet  restorer,  balmy  sleep,"  which  came  with  night  to 
close  our  weary  eyelids,  and  catch  reflected  smiles  from 
placid  faces  and  rosy  lips,  while  the  stars  that  peeped 
quietly  in  at  the  windows  lighted  up  dewy  brows  and 
healthy  cheeks,  unsullied  by  a  tear. 

Oh,  how  does  the  golden  lamp  of  young  life  flood  all 
its  surroundings  with  light  and  beauty,  leaving  an  illu- 
minated page  in  memory's  book,  which  no  after  cares 
can  darken !  Happy  the  young  who  may  dwell  in  their 
own  homes,  filled  with  the  domestic  flowers  of  love  and 
innocence,  whence  the  voice  of  affection  breathes  on  the 
ear,  opening  in  the  inner  heart  blossoms  of  piety  and 
virtue,  to  which  are  duly  apportioned  the  dew  and. 
the  sunbeam ! 

I  am  not  of  those  who  are  constantly  bemoaning  the 
"better  times  of  the  glorious  old  past;"  and  yet,  I  verily 
believe  that  the  children  of  fifty  years  ago  enjoyed  life 
more,  and  were  educated  in  a  manner  better  suited  to  the 
development  of  their  physical  and  mental  energies,  and 
to  the  fostering  of  that  self-reliance  so  necessary  for  the 
life-struggle  of  mature  age,  than  those  of  modern  times. 
Our  simple  costume,  unconfined  by  belt  or  girdle,  and 
our  bib-aprons,  as  distinctly  separated  the  school  girl 
from  the  young  lady  in  society,  as  did  the  "  bulla  and 
toga  virilis"  separate  childhood  and  manhood  among 
the  Romans. 

With  what  pleasure,  not  unmingled  with  vanity,  did  I 
display  my  two  school  dresses  for  the  Spring  of  1812, 
both  made  of  Virginia  cotton  cloth,  home  spun  and  home 
woven — one  a  white  ground  with  pink  stripes  running 
lengthwise;  the  other,  a  blue  plaid,  which  was  the  admi- 

5 


62  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

ration  of  all  the  unsophisticated  girls  in  my  class.  And 
then  our  dresses  cost,  comparatively,  so  little.  A  simple 
frock,  with  a  draw-string  around  the  waist,  three  widths 
in  the  skirt,  one  of  which  was  cut  into  gores,  and  a 
check  apron  was  the  height  of  our  ambition.  Though 
our  dresses  were  not  full  and  flowing,  they  were  wide 
enough  to  admit  of  leaping,  running,  jumping,  and  climb- 
ing trees — a  feat  often  performed  by  girls  from  eight  to 
fifteen  years  of  age.  In  Winter  we  faced  the  wind  and 
braved  the  snow,  and  even  sought  the  drifted  banks,  into 
which  we  literally  waded  without  fear  of  cold  or  sick- 
ness— an  evil  almost  unkown  among  the  hardy  little 
pine-knots  of  Virginia.  Headaches  were  a  myth,  and 
indigestion  never  heard  of.  No  colds  or  sore-throats; 
none  of  the  various  ailings  which  arise  from  lack  of  a 
little  wholesome  neglect.  At  playtime,  in  Winter,  we 
built  snow-houses,  erected  colossal  statues,  and  bound 
their  brows  with  icicles — rare  jewels  these  when  the  sun 
shone  on  them !  Coasting,  sliding,  snow-balling — oh,  this 
was  fun!  The  result,  good  constitutions,  power  to  endure 
exposure,  and  exemption  from  asthma  and  consump- 
tion. People  did  not  die  then  before  their  time  came. 

The  little  village  of  Paris,  to  which  I  have  before 
alluded,  afforded  a  good  day-school,  and  many  privileges 
in  the  way  of  a  common  education.  The  school-house 
stood  in  a  beautiful  grove  that  skirted  the  highway. 
There  we  learned  to  read,  write,  and  cipher,  and  were 
thoroughly  drilled  in  Dilvvorth's  Spelling-book — the  vade 
inecum  of  every  country  teacher — and  were  taught  to 
"make  our  manners"  without  paying  an  "extra  six- 
pence" a  week.  This  excellent  school-house  was  also 
occupied  as  the  village  church. 

A  favorite  amusement  with  the  children,  at  that  time, 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  63 

was  swinging  from  the  end  of  a  grapevine  torn  from  its 
fastenings  in  the  tree.  A  feat  of  this  kind  came  near 
costing  me  my  life,  when  but  nine  years  old.  I  was  a 
slender  and  delicate  looking  child,  yet  remarkably  strong 
and  active,  and  could  climb  like  a  cat.  By  the  aid  of 
one  of  my  older  companions  I  had  gained  firm  footing 
high  up  in  a  gnarled  oak — easy  enough  to  climb;  but 
venturing  too  far  out  upon  one  of  its  branches,  and  seiz- 
ing with  both  hands  a  loosened  grapevine,  I  attempted 
to  swing  down  gently,  as  I  had  often  done  before;  but 
the  whole  vine  giving  way  too  suddenly,  I  was  precipi- 
tated to  the  ground,  from  whence  my  frightened  com- 
panions raised  me  in  a  senseless  state.  Happily  no  per- 
manent injury  resulted,  as  I  fell  upon  the  soft,  green 
sward,  but  it  rendered  me  chary  ever  afterward  about 
cimbing  trees.  I  rode  on  horseback  when  quite  a  child, 
with  the  greatest  ease  and  fearlessness — frequently  mount- 
ing in  my  father's  saddle,  and  riding  round  and  round  the 
village,  to  my  own  infinite  delight  and  the  great  amuse- 
ment of  the  bystanders. 

The  old  lady  with  whom  we  boarded  during  our  first 
year's  residence  in  Paris  deserves  notice,  as  one  of  the 
institutions  of  the  place.  Her  house  stood  at  the  far- 
thest end  of  a  long  street  which  commenced  at  the  foot 
of  the  mountain.  She  kept  a  genteel  establishment  called 
a  "tavern" — there  were  no  hotels  then.  No  liquors  were 
sold  there.  It  was  really  a  resting-place;  and  many  a 
way-worn  traveler  hailed  with  delight  the  entrance  to  that 
old-fashioned  brick  building,  whose  signboard  promised 
"refreshment  for  man  and  beast."  There  was  a  coldness 
and  precision  about  the  interior  arrangements  of  this 
dwelling  that  impressed  every  body  painfully.  The  door- 
steps, the  window-sills,  the  sashes,  the  wash-boards,  were 


64  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

immaculately  white,  and  kept  so  by  the  daily  scrubbing 
of  a  withered-looking  housemaid.  The  very  knives,  forks, 
and  spoons  were  made  thin  by  repeated  rubbings.  The 
best  room  was  excruciatingly  tidy.  The  heavy,  high- 
backed  chairs,  mahogany  tables;  the  well- waxed  floor,  in 
which  you  could  almost  see  your  face;  the  old-fashioned 
family  pictures  suspended  from  the  walls ;  and,  indeed,  all 
its  appointments,  were  matters  of  great  curiosity  to  me. 

Madam  R.  was  a  little  old  woman  between  the  ages 
of  sixty  and  seventy,  with  sharp,  attenuated  features, 
long  nose,  and  pointed  chin;  and  when  I  first  saw  her 
she  needed  only  a  broomstick  to  make  me  think  she  was 
one  of  the  witches  described  in  my  nursery  tales.  She 
wore  slippers  with  long,  slender  heels,  evidently  to  in- 
crease her  height.  I  wondered  how  she  could  walk  in 
them;  yet  she  glided  along  noiselessly  and  gracefully, 
with  her  full  skirts  and  ample  train.  A  high-crowned 
cap,  with  a  fine  muslin  kerchief  folded  over  her  bosom, 
a  huge  pair  of  silver-mounted  spectacles,  a  heavy  bunch 
of  keys  at  her  girdle,  with  scissors  and  pin-cushion  dang- 
ling outside  of  her  sober-colored  gown,  and  a  linen  lawn 
apron,  completed  her  attire.  Her  snuff-box  and  book 
lay  always  on  her  work-table;  for  she  read  novels  and 
romances  with  as  much  zest  as  a  love-sick  girl — her  Bible 
never,  so  far  as  I  could  see.  This  also  made  me  afraid 
of  her ;  for  I  had  been  told  that  good  people  always  read 
the  Bible. 

I  have  since  thought  that  the  old  lady  must  have  been 
a  nice  mathematician.  I  have  seen  her  divide  a  common- 
sized  apple-pie  into  as  many  pieces  as  would  serve  eight 
or  ten  persons.  She  never  thought  of  leaving  any  for 
the  waiting  children;  and  more  than  once  I  shedf  silent 
tears  as  I  saw  the  last  piece  appropriated.  She  could 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  65 

"cut  and  come  again"  so  skillfully  from  a  round  of 
spiced  beef  as  not  to  exhaust  it  for  two  weeks,  during 
which  time  it  made  its  daily  appearance  at  the  table. 
Her  tact  was  admirable;  her  economy  wonderful! 

A  son  and  a  daughter  completed  this  family  circle. 
The  former  was  a  mechanical  sort  of  an  old  bachelor, 
who  "moved,  worked,  and  suffered" — a  mere  attache  of 
the  establishment,  to  be  ordered  into  service  when 
needed.  He  was  seldom  seen,  never  heard;  and  from 
his  unbroken  silence  it  might  be  inferred  that  he  had 
never  learned  to  talk;  the  truth  was,  his  lady  mother 
and  loquacious  sister  never  gave  him  an  opportunity. 
He  must  have  kept  up  a  "mighty  thinking,"  however; 
for  he  showed  all  the  ingenuity  and  shrewdness  of  a 
Yankee,  in  the  many  useful  inventions  and  labor-saving 
machines  resulting  from  a  clear-sighted  vision  and  a  quick 
instinct  of  the  profitable.  In  matters  of  trade  and  busi- 
ness Mr.  Jerry  was  never  at  fault. 

Miss  Jane  was  tall  and  meagre;  her  visage  sharp, 
swarthy,  and  unprepossessing,  except  for  her  keen  gray 
eyes,  that  sparkled  with  intelligence.  Strange  that  there 
should.be  any  thing  fascinating  in  an  eye  that  belonged 
to  so  cold  a  heart!  The  sharpness  of  her  tones,  even 
in  common  conversation,  repelled  affection.  Like  her 
mother,  she  was  so  addicted  to  novel-reading  that  she 
lived  in  an  ideal  world.  Mrs.  Radcliffe's  "piled-up 
horrors"  and  mysterious  ramifications  furnished  the  apart- 
ments of  her  brain,  and  shed  a  lurid  light  upon  her  soul. 
Her  dress  was  characteristic  of  the  tastes  she  had  im- 
bibed ;  and  never  did  a  faded  woman  upon  the  verge  of 
fifty  take  more  trouble  to  look  like  a  heroine  of  romance. 
Girlish  frocks  tied  around  her  thin  form,  flowing  sashes, 
false  curls  peeping  out  from  under  a  fantastic  head-dress 


66  JULIA  A,  TEVIS. 

adorned  with  flowers  or  drooping  feathers,  failed  to  make 
her  appear  youthful.  Nobody  loved  her  ;  yet  she  was  nei- 
ther shunned  nor  ridiculed,  because  she  was  really  polite  to 
every  body.  She  preferred  the  society  of  young  persons, 
took  part  in  their  amusements,  and  delighted  in  bringing 
down  her  OAvn  thoughts  to  their  comprehension.  Her 
memory  was  filled  with  the  most  thrilling  stories  of  hob- 
goblins and  fairies,  spiced  with  raw -heads -and -bloody- 
bones,  distressed  damsels,  and  brave  knights. 

I  was  an  interested  listener;  and  she  tried  to  make 
me  fond  of  her  by  coaxing  and  sweetmeats.  By  degrees 
I  drew  nearer,  and  still  nearer,  and  would  even  sit  on  a 
low  stool  at  her  feet  for  hours,  listening  to  her  stories. 

I  must,  however,  do  this  woman  the  justice  to  say 
that  to  her  I  am  partly  indebted  for  my  intense  love  of 
reading.  Happy  for  me,  at  this  period  of  pure  fancy, 
before  my  brain  was  strong  enough  to  bear  severe  read- 
ing, to  have  found  one,  burdened  with  the  wealth  of 
many  beautiful  things,  who  led  me  at  will  through  all 
the  Arcadian  scenes  of  fiction,  making  the  "Arabian 
Nights,"  "Fairy  Tales,"  and  "Robinson  Crusoe"  my 
text -books,  instead  of  English  Grammar  and  Mathe- 
matics. It  only  made  me  relish  the  more,  as  I  grew 
older,  and  wayward  fancy  gave  place  to  higher  thoughts, 
veritable  travels  and  biography.  As  my  powers  of  reten- 
tion grew  stronger,  History  and  Poetry  stood  ready  to 
meet  my  intellectual  wants.  Thus,  by  degrees,  was  my 
world -wide  curiosity  in  a  measure  sated,  and  deeper 
thought  awakened,  as  I  entered  upon  dryer  and  severer 
studies.  The  end,  the  use  of  things,  must  be  seen  before 
the  means  can  be  appreciated.  It  is  better  that  reflection 
and  fancy  be  germinated  before  than  simultaneously  with 
them;  the  attention  will  be  less  diverted. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  67 


CHAPTER  III. 

MY  father  finally  located  his  family  in  Winchester,  at 
that  time  the  most  beautiful  inland  town  in  Vir- 
ginia, eligibly  situated  at  the  entrance  of  what  is  termed 
the  "rich  valley"  in  Frederick  County.  It  presented  an 
inviting  place  of  residence  for  many  wealthy  and  distin- 
guished families,  whose  hospitable  mansions  ornamented 
the  suburbs,  and  whose  hearts  and  homes  welcomed 
"the  coming  guest,"  making  that  welcome  so  agreeable, 
that  many — so  the  old  story  goes — lingered  until  they 
forgot  they  were  not  at  home.  Winchester  and  its  lovely 
environs  might  well  have  been  deemed  an  earthly  para- 
dise, which,  had  Mahomet  looked  upon  from  the  mount- 
ain heights,  as  he  did  upon  Damascus,  he  would  have 
hesitated  to  enter,  for  fear  the  "Lotus  Land"  might 
make  him  forgetful  of  the  Paradise  above.  So  I  think, 
at  least,  as  I  look  upon  it  now  through  the  golden  haze 
of  memory. 

Here  was  an  excellent  Female  Academy,  under  the 
superintendence  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Hill,  a  Presbyterian 
minister,  eminent  for  piety,  learning,  and  ability.  He 
was  assisted  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Streight,  pastor  of  the 
Dutch  Reformed  Church.  In  this  school  I  gained  knowl- 
edge rapidly;  learned  the  worth  of  time,  and  tried  to 
improve  it,  by  laying  up  a  store  of  useful  information, 
which  proved  a  solid  foundation  for  the  superstructure  to 
be  raised  upon  it.  For  three  consecutive  years  my  first 
lesson  in  the  morning  was  two  columns  in  Walker's 


68  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

Dictionary,  giving  the  definitions  and  parts  of  speech. 
We  spelled  in  large  classes,  and  regularly  turned  each 
other  down— the  one  who  retained  her  place  at  the  head 
of  the  class  for  the  whole  week,  bearing  off  the  prize- 
ticket  on  Friday  afternoon;  and,  to  this  hour,  though 
I  consult  other  lexicographers,  Walker  is  my  standard. 

Mr.  Hill  was  one  of  those  wise-hearted  teachers,  espe- 
cially fitted  for  his  important  vocation.  Rightly  dividing 
the  wo'rds  of  instruction  and  disciplinary  admonition,  he 
failed  not  to  secure  the  love,  as  well  as  the  respect  and 
esteem,  of  his  pupils.  Strict,  but  not  severe;  uniformly 
kind,  but  not  familiar;  conscientious  in  the  discharge 
of  his  duty,  he  succeeded  admirably  in  training  his  pupils 
intellectually  and  religiously.  From  this  "Academy" 
(bless  the  old-fashioned  name!),  which  continued  in  suc- 
cessful operation  for  many  years,  went  forth  a  number 
of  interesting  women  to  cheer  the  domestic  hearthstone, 
to  be  useful  in  the  world,  and  to  shine  like  diamonds 
of  the  purest  water  in  society.  My  reminiscences  con- 
nected with  this  school  have  ever  been  a  fruitful  source 
of  pleasure  to  myself  and  amusement  to  others;  indeed, 
I  never  think  o'f  Winchester  but  a  thrill  of  joy  passes 
through  my  heart.  "Like  the  music  of  other  days,  'tis 
mournful,  but  pleasing  to  the  soul." 

Our  school  hours  were  from  eight  to  twelve  in  the 
forenoon,  and  from  two  until  four  in  the  afternoon. 
During  the  Summer  months  many  of  us  attended  a 
sewing-school,  taught  from  four  until  six  o'clock  P.  M., 
by  an  old  lady  from  Philadelphia,  of  "yellow  fever 
memory."  Nothing  delighted  her  so  much  as  the  reca- 
pitulation of  the  horrors  connected  wiih  that  awful  visi- 
tation upon  her  native  city  in  1793.  Her  memory  was 
filled  with  incidents  of  people  put  in  their  coffins  before 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  69 

their  breath  was  fairly  gone;  the  dead,  hurried  by  cart- 
loads into  pits  dug  to  receive  them ;  instances  of  resusci- 
tion  after  burial ;  weeping  mothers  and  dismayed  children 
flying  from  the  homes  where  the  husbands  and  fathers 
had  died;  ghost-like  figures,  wrapped  in  cloaks,  going 
about  the  streets  in  search  of  shelter,  invested  already 
with  the  floating  pestilence.  No  wonder  our  samplers 
and  various  kinds  of  needle-work  dropped  from  our  trem- 
bling hands,  while,  panic  stricken,  we  were  prompted  to 
run  as  if  the  terrible  plague  was  already  rushing  upon  us, 
and  could  only  be  avoided  by  precipitate  flight.  Few  of 
her  listeners  but  were  slightly  tinctured  with  supersti- 
tion by  these  daily  recitals;  and  many  a  poor,  little,  blue- 
eyed,  flaxen  haired  girl  was  rendered  still  more  timid  as 
the  shadows  of  evening  lengthened.  She  would  not  have 
dared,  for  the  world,  to  wend  her  way  homeward  in  the 
dark  without  a  companion  somewhat  bolder  and  stronger 
than  herself;  indeed,  none  of  us  were  disposed  to  tarry 
by  the  way. 

Friday  afternoons  and  the  whole  day  on  Saturdays 
we  attended  Monsieur  Xaupe's  dancing-school.  This 
accomplishment  was  carried  on  through  all  our  academical 
course.  Dancing  then  was  dancing,  indeed!  Character- 
ized by  graceful  agility,  it  was  exercise  in  the  true  sense 
of  the  word,  particularly  if  carried  on  in  the  open  air; 
no  lackadaisical  languishing  on  the  one  part,  nor  stiff, 
awkward  shuffling  on  the  other.  Graceful  evolutions  and 
genteel  cotillions,  even  among  boys  and  girls,  were  car- 
ried on  with  the  utmost  attention  to  modest  etiquette, 
the  personal  attention  of  the  gentlemen  extending  no 
further  than  touching  the  tip  ends  of  delicately  gloved 
hands.  High  heels  and  sweeping  trains  effectually  forbid 
elegant  dancing  nowadays.  The  custom  among  the  boys 


70  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

and  girls  of  playing  thimble  at  recess,  or  something  that 
required  forfeits,  I  did  not  admire,  and  seldom  joined  in. 
Once  an  awkward,  red-headed  boy,  of  about  fifteen,  was 
required  to  redeem  a  pawn  by  coming  stealthily  and  kiss- 
ing me.  I  had  withdrawn  to  a  corner,  and  was  deeply 
engaged  in  reading.  He  was  not  quick  enough.  This 
gave  me  an  opportunity  of  slapping  him  violently  in  the 
face  with  a  book.  He  retired  with  a  burning  cheek  from 
the  combat,  but,  forgetting  the  insult  before  evening, 
attempted  to  walk  home  with  me.  I  was  sullenly  silent 
at  first,  but  soon  found  an  opportunity  of  pushing  him 
into  a  gutter.  Thus  ended  my  prospect  for  beaux.  Child 
as  I  was — only  eleven — I  heartily  despised  flirting  among 
boys  and  girls. 

I  have  referred  to  the  hardy  habits  of  children  fifty 
years  ago,  and  will  give  another  incident,  connected  with 
my  school  life  at  Winchester,  showing  with  what  impu- 
nity we  reveled  in  the  cold,  and  amid  the  ice  and  snow. 

Near  our  school-house,  in  the  suburbs  of  the  town,  and 
just  hidden  from  the  dwelling  of  our  teacher,  was  a  large 
pond,  sufficiently  ice-bound  in  the  Winter  to  afford  slid- 
ing for  the  girls,  and  good  skating  for  the  little  boys  who 
timidly  ventured  there.  One  glorious  noon  a  dozen  or 
more  of  us,  after  hurrying  through  our  lunch,  went  down 
to  this  pond,  where  we  thought  to  have  a  merry  time. 
Two  or  three  little  blue-nosed  urchins  were  made  to  give 
up  their  skates  to  some  of  the  girls,  whilst  others  con- 
tented themselves  with  sliding;  and  we  were  scarcely 
under  way  when  one  of  our  little  romps  fell  flat  on  her 
face,  with  her  nose  forced  into  a  crack  in  the  ice.  Of 
course,  she  tried  to  scream  terribly;  but  her  screams 
were  faint  compared  with  the  noise  of  those  gathered  to 
her  assistance.  Some  stumbled  and  fell;  others  tried  in 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  71 

vain  to  lift  her  up.  After  several  unsuccessful  efforts,  how- 
ever, we  succeeded,  and  found  her  face  scratched  and  nose 
badly  bruised.  A  few  drops  of  blood  so  increased  the 
panic,  and  retarded  the  progress  of  matters,  that  we  could 
with  difficulty  get  her  to  a  boarding-house  near  by,  and 
take  her  stealthily  up  into  one  of  the  girls'  rooms,  before 
the  bell  rang  for  school.  The  roll  was  called — "Mary 
M'Kendlass."  "Absent."  "She  was  here  this  morn- 
ing," said  Mr.  Hill;  "what  has  become  of  her?"  A 
moment  of  silence,  when  one,  bolder  than  the  rest,  said, 
"She  is  sick;  gone  home."  Mr.  Hill  looked  incredu- 
lous, but  made  no  remark.  I,  for  one,  felt  inexpressibly 
relieved ;  for  there  was  no  mischief  ever  on  hand  that  he 
did  not  deem  me  one  of  the  culprits.  We  sat  all  the 
afternoon  with  cold,  wet  feet,  not  daring  to  approach  the 
large  wood  fire  that  blazed  so  cheerfully  on  the  hearth, 
for  fear  of  attracting  attention.  Poor  girls!  A  shadow 
rested  upon  our  merry  faces  that  whole  afternoon ;  not 
that  we  dreaded  sickness — it  was  a  thing  almost  unknown 
among  us,  although  we  spent  nearly  all  our  playtimes 
out  of  doors,  in  defiance  of  the  severest  weather. 

How  wearily  the  hours  dragged  on  until  the  time  of 
our  dismissal.  Several  of  us  then  went  to  take  Mary 
home,  whom  we  found  much  refreshed  by  a  long  sleep. 
We  were  delighted  to  think  that  our  adventure  was  about 
to  terminate  so  happily.  We  walked  gayly  along  with 
Mary  towards  her  home,  when,  lo!  just  as  we  were  enter- 
ing the  back  gate  Mr.  Hill  appeared  at  the  front  door, 
coming  to  inquire  after  his  sick  pupil.  Our  consternation 
may  well  be  imagined,  but  the  scene  was  indescribable. 
Mr.  Hill's  quizzical  look  was  perfectly  irresistible ;  and, 
with  a  little  encouragement  from  his  laughing  eye,  we 
confessed  our  fault,  and,  pleading  guilty,  begged  for 


72  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

mercy,  which  was  granted,  after  amusing  himself  for  some 
time  at  our  expense;  but  we  were  debarred  the  privilege 
of  another  icy  adventure  that  Winter. 

Our  excellent  teacher  was  very  successful  in  his  re- 
proofs; and  though  sometimes  severe,  he  never  failed  to 
make  us  sensible  of  his  affectionate  regard  and  the  real 
interest  he  felt  in  our  welfare.  We  were  happy  children, 
full  of  life  and  sunshine,  and  he  had  no  disposition  to 
repress  innocent  fun  and  frolic.  He  knew  there  must  be 
a  safety-valve  for  the  outgushing  merriment  of  young 
hearts. 

I  have  said  that  we  were  mischievous;  but  never  ma- 
licious, I  am  sure.  Once  I  was  induced  by  a  fun-loving 
girl  to  put  sugar  in  the  inkstands,  being  assured  that  it 
would  meet  the  approbation  of  our  solemn  writing-master. 
We  gazed  with  admiration  at  the  black,  shining  words  of 
our  beautiful  copies,  as  we  left  them  open  on  the  desk 
while  we  were  reciting  in  an  adjoining  room.  It  was  Sum- 
mer, and  the  flies  were  so  busy  during  our  absence  that 
when  the  master  came  around  there  was  not  a  legible 
word  to  be  seen.  "Who  did  this?  Speak,  instantly!" 
No  reply;  but  agitation  and  alarm  were  so  visible  upon 
my  face  that,  placing  his  heavy  hand  upon  my  brow,  he 
stretched  open  my  eyes  to  a  painful  extent,  while  he 
threatened  to  box  my  ears.  My  ludicrous  appearance 
and  terrified  looks  seemed  to  cool  his  anger  almost  to  the 
laughing  point,  except  that  he  never  laughed.  Thus  he 
left  me  with  a  positive  threat  of  severe  punishment  should 
it  ever  occur  again. 

Children  are  not  most  effectually  governed  by  too  much 
fault-finding.  Teachers  and  parents  are  slow  to  learn  that 
there  is  a  chord  in  every  heart  which  vibrates  more  to 
the  touch  of  kindness  than  to  the  rude  shock  of  rough 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  73 

government.  Serious  faults  should  never  be  overlooked  ; 
and,  to  secure  principles  of  right  doing,  a  child  should  be 
taught  that  it  is  an  accountable  being.  Morals  are  best 
inducted  and  principles  most  firmly  .fixed  during  the  first 
ten  years  of  a  child's  life. 

Being  so  fully  persuaded  of  the  superiority  of  Mr. 
Hill's  mode  of  instruction,  and  the  benefits  I  derived 
from  this  excellent  institution,  I  can  not  close  this  part 
of  my  subject  without  saying  something  of  the  long- 
debated  question  of  making  children  write  compositions. 
The  younger  pupils  of  this  Academy  were  as  much  re- 
quired to  bring  in  weekly  contributions  of  this  kind  as 
the  older  members  of  the  school — something  in  the  form 
of  a  letter  or  a  familiar  story — until  they  could  write  with 
ease,  and  sometimes  express  themselves  with  elegance. 

My  first  effort  was  a  letter  blistered  with  tears,  upon 
which  more  time  had  been  spent  than  ever  Cicero  devoted 
to  one  of  his  finest  orations.  It  was  to  be  read  aloud, 
and  criticised  before  the  whole  school.  Having  an  unac- 
countable dread  of  the  slightest  contraction  of  Mr.  Hill's 
ample  brow,  I  dared  not  look  up  as  I  tremblingly  placed 
my  epistle  in  his  hand.  It  was  folded  in  the  most  ap- 
proved style,  and  addressed  to  a  far-off  friend.  It  com- 
menced thus:  I  now  sit  down  and  take  up  my  pen — 
"You  sit  down,"  interrupted  my  unmerciful  critic. 
"Who  do  you  think  cares  whether  you  sit  or  stand?" — 
and  write  to  inform  you — "Your  friend  reads  your  letter, 
why  must  you  inform  her  that  you  give  her  the  informa- 
tion?"— that  I  am  well,  and  this  comes  hopping — "Aston- 
ishing! And  so  it  is  to  go  hopping?  a  most  extraor- 
dinary epistle!  I  suppose  it  skips  and  jumps,  too;"  and 
so  my  censor  continued  through  the  whole  page.  My 
ears  burned,  my  head  ached,  my  eyes  swam  in  tears,  and 


74  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

my  glowing  cheeks  were  almost  purple  with  confusion; 
but  I  bore  it  all,  profited  by  the  criticism,  never  tried  to 
evade  my  weekly  task,  and  have  reaped  a  rich  reward. 
No  doubt  my  facility  in  letter  writing  is  largely  due  to 
this  initiatory  ordeal,  combined  with  my  determined 
effort  while  a  pupil  of  that  good  old-time  academy. 

Our  text-books  were  few,  but  we  obtained  a  thorough 
knowledge  of  them.  I  believe  I  could  now,  after  the 
lapse  of  so  many  years,  repeat  the  whole  of  Murray's 
Grammar  from  the  beginning  of  Etymology  to  the  end 
of  Syntax,  verbatim,  after  a  slight  review.  Do  not  infer 
from  this  that  memory  alone  was  cultivated;  on  the  con- 
trary, much  pains  was  taken  to  cultivate  our  thinking 
powers.  I  doubt  much  if  the  modern  labor-saving  books 
have  not  rendered  education  far  more  superficial.  Self-cul- 
ture and  close  thinking  strengthen  the  mental  powers — a 
slow  growth  of  mind  would  make  more  useful  men  and 
women.  The  possession  of  knowledge  Is  useless  to  the 
world,  without  the  wisdom  to  apply  it — hot-house  plants 
often  wither  without  bearing  fruit.  The  young,  in  mod- 
ern times,  think  too  little  and  act  too  much;  they  are 
alarmingly  busy  and  remarkably  idle,  and  often  good  for 
nothing,  unless  controlled  by  stronger  minds. 

During  my  school-days  we  took  lessons  in  gymnastics 
from  Nature.  To  ride  young  saplings,  to  climb  trees  for 
cherries  and  wild  grapes,  was  Nature's  inductive  method 
of  teaching  ease  of  manner  and  grace  of  motion;  while 
with  her  delicate  pencil  she  failed  not  to  impart  the  glow 
of  health  and  beauty.  Can  beauty  exist  where  health 
is  not? 

We  remained  in  Winchester  more  than  three  years. 
One  bright  page  in  my  memory,  during  that  time,  is 
devoted  to  a  visit  to  Bath  or  Berkley  Springs,  situated 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  75 

about  forty  miles  north.  This  was  a  celebrated  watering- 
place  during  the  Revolutionary  War,  and  the  resort  of 
many  distinguished  men  since.  Lord  Fairfax  had  a  Sum- 
mer residence  there,  the  ruins  of  which  I  have  seen; 
and  some  of  the  outbuildings — the  kitchen,  for  instance — 
were  in  good  repair  in  1857;  and  here,  probably,  he  died 
of  grief  after  Cornwallis's  surrender,  with  Yorktown  en- 
graven on  his  heart.  The  house  where  Washington 
boarded  while  in  Bath  is  -still  pointed  out ;  and,  though 
in  ruins,  held  in  reverence  by  the  inhabitants. 

The  beautiful  valley  in  which  this  little  town  is  sit- 
uated is  overtopped  by  stately  mountains,  from  which 
are  poured  a  profusion  of  rivulets,  keeping  the  grass 
fresh  and  green  and  fertilizing  the  soil.  Thickly  shaded 
groves,  threaded  with  graveled  walks  and  dotted  with 
convenient  resting-places ;  fountains  of  pure  water,  and 
every  arrangement  calculated  to  promote  health  and  com- 
fort, met  the  eye  in  every  direction.  Here  are  also 
found  ample  facilities  for  bathing.  The  dense  vegetation, 
the  ever-running  stream  of  clear  water  that  passes  through 
the  village,  its  banks  fringed  with  trees,  afford,  perhaps, 
as  perfect  an  idea  of  Arcadia  as  one  is  likely  to  meet 
with  in  this  every  day  world.  From  the  highest  point 
of  one  of  the  mountains  may  be  seen  Maryland,  Penn- 
sylvania, Western  Virginia,  and,  in  the  dim  distance,  the 
Blue  Ridge  and  the  peaks  of  Otter. 

In  the  year  1811,  a  man  by  the  name  of  Hughes,  who 
had  been  imprisoned  for  debt  in  Richmond,  Virginia, 
succeeded,  by  the  aid  of  a  shrewd  and  unscrupulous 
lawyer  of  that  place,  in  publishing  a  pretended  prophecy 
that  a  great  part  of  the  world  would  be  destroyed  by  fire. 
This  was  to  take  place  on  a  certain  day  in  June.  It  will 
be  understood,  that  the  man  had  been  so  long  in  jail  that 


76  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

the  community  had  lost  sight  of  or  forgotten  him.  The 
pamphlet  was  secretly  printed  at  the  cost  of  the  lawyer, 
who  was  to  share  the  profits.  Care  was  taken  that  it 
should  not  be  circulated  in  the  vicinity  of  Richmond,  or 
where  there  would  be  any  likelihood  of  the  discovery  of 
the  fraud.  It  was  disseminated  throughout  the  most 
unsettled  parts  of  Virginia,  among  the  mountains,  in  the 
South  and  in  the  far  West.  One  of  these,  like  a  stray 
waif,  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  some  of  our  school 
girls.  We  read  it  with  intense  curiosity,  and  swallowed 
every  word  of  it  as  truth.  The  news  spread  among  us 
like  wildfire ;  and,  at  each  repetition,  it  became  more  and 
more  exaggerated.  We  marvelled  that  it  was  not  talked 
of  in  our  families,  and  daily  expected  the  communication 
through  our  teachers.  Our  eyes  grew  larger  and  more 
dreamy,  and  a  settled  thoughtfulness  seemed  to  pervade 
the  whole  school. 

But  things  went  on  as  usual.  Lessons  were  assigned 
and  expected  to  be  learned,  our  elders  appeared  as  busily 
engaged  in  preparing  to  live  as  if  no  prophecy  had  been 
made.  What  strange  apathy  in  all,  save  us  school  girls! 
We  talked  in  retired  groups,  wept  silent  tears,  and  were, 
much  to  the  surprise  of  our  teachers,  wonderfully  docile. 
No  romping  or  shouting  or  playing — the  elastic  step  was 
gone,  and  we  felt  that — 

"Nothing  so  like  a  weary  step 
Betrays  a  weary  heart." 

At  last  arrived  the  evening  preceding  the  awful  day. 
School  was  dismissed;  yet  we  lingered  around  the  old 
play-ground;  the  birds  sang,  the  flowers  bloomed,  and 
the  sweet  evening  breeze  swept  lovingly  over  us,  obliv- 
ious of  any  coming  change.  Hard-hearted  Mr.  Hill 
turned  his  back  upon  us,  arid  walked  quietly  into  the 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  77 

house,  without  bidding  us  good-by,  as  if  nothing  were  to 
happen.  Mr.  Streight  looked  colder,  and  was  Grosser 
than  usual,  because  our  copies  were  badly  written;  I 
wondered  if  he  would  look  so  should  I  meet  him  in 
heaven.  Intimate  friends  shook  hands  for  the  last  time, 
kissed  one  another  with  more  than  usual  affection,  and 
turned  back  to  bid  yet  another  adieu,  weeping  as  if  their 
hearts  would  break.  I  wandered  listlessly  to  my  own 
home,  and  seated  myself  on  the  door-step  to  watch 
the  declining  sun;  it  sank  below  the  Western  horizon, 
clothed  in  purple  and  gold.  I  listened  with  a  pleasing 
melancholy  to  the  twittering  of  the  birds;  watched  the 
domestic  fowls  as  they  retired  to  roost,  and  caught  the 
melody  of  the  milkmaid's  song  mingled  with  the  lowing 
of  the  cattle  in  the  distant  meadows. 

I  lingered  around  my  mother  long  after  bedtime,  and 
kissing  her  with  unusual  fervency  before  retiring,  went  to 
bed  thinking  I  should  pass  a  restless  night;  but  Nature 
would  not  be  robbed  of  her  dues.  Troubled  dreams  of 
darkened  skies,  muttering  thunder,  and  flashing  lightning 
disturbed  my  rest.  I  awoke  but  once,  to  see  the  moon- 
light streaming  in  through  the  window,  and  slept  again 
until  awakened  for  breakfast.  A  brighter  day  never 
blessed  the  earth;  it  was  a  glorious  vision  of  charming 
Summer  weather;  and  yet,  with  all  this,  when  we  met  at 
the  opening  school  hour,  we  were  afraid  to  enjoy  our 
own  happy  consciousness,  and  even  while  bent  over'  our 
books,  one  and  another  might  occasionally  be  seen  glanc- 
ing at  the  window  as  if  expecting  something  startling. 
Thus  hour  after  hour  glided  away,  and  not  a  cloud  as 
"big  as  a  man's  hand"  was  seen;  and  the  closing  of  that 
day  brought  with  it  the  sweet  assurance  that  our  Heav- 
enly Father  is  always  "better  to  us  than  our  fears." 


78  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

How  strange,  knowing,  as  we  do,  but  one  thing  cer- 
tainly, that  we  must  die — and  of  this  we  are  warned  from 
the  beginning  of  Genesis  to  the  end  of  Revelation — yet, 
the  many  make  no  preparation  for  it,  and  dream  of  long 
years  to  come,  until  startled  by  some  pretended  prophecy 
of  sudden  desolation ;  forgetting,  meanwhile,  the  words 
of  our  Savior,  who  has  emphatically  declared,  that  "of 
the  day  and  hour  knoweth  no  man,  no,  not  the  angels  of 
heaven,  but  my  Father  only." 

Previous  to  the  declaration  of  war  in  1812  there  was 
intense  excitement  throughout  the  whole  country.  The 
political  animosity  existing  between  the  two  parties,  Fed- 
eralists and  Democrats,  was  bitter  beyond  expression; 
even  the  children  caught  fire  in  the  general  conflagration. 
Some  were  Democrats,  the  war  party;  others  Federalists, 
"whose  voice  was  still  for  peace."  It  was  not  an  unu- 
sual thing  to  see  the  girls  of  our  school  in  battle  array 
on  the  green  common,  during  intermission,  fighting  like 
furies;  and  though,  like  Pompey's  patrician  soldiers, 
carefully  avoiding  scratched  faces  and  broken  noses, 
many  a  handful  of  hair  was  borne  off  as  a  trophy,  many 
a  neatly  made  dress  torn  into  tatters;  while  a  system  of 
boxing  was  practiced,  that  would  have  done  honor  to  a 
Grecian  gymnasium.  The  war  party,  of  course,  Avere 
generally  victorious,  as  they  were  not  only  more  numer- 
ous but  fiercer,  and  more  demonstrative,  and  would  not 
stay  whipped.  Nothing  was  effected,  however,  in  these 
melees;  the  battles  ended  when  we  were  tired  of  fighting. 
But  it  is  a  positive  fact,  that  our  dishevelled  hair  and 
torn  garments  increased  our  good  humor  to  the  highest 
pitch  of  merriment. 

Among  my  most  vivid  recollections  of  the  opening  of 
the  war  was  seeing  a  splendid  body  of  cavalry  passing 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  79 

through  the  streets  of  Winchester.  It  was  a  full  reg- 
iment, handsomely  equipped,  bright  new  uniforms,  a  fine 
band  of  music,  with  all  the  "pomp  and  circumstance  of 
glorious  war."  The  spirited  horses,  and  gallant  bearing 
of  the  officers,  with  their  flashing  swords  and  waving 
plumes,  rendered  it  an  imposing  sight. 

The  colonel  was  the  cynosure  of  all  eyes.  Like  Saul 
among  his  brethren,  he  seemed  literally  head  and  shoul- 
ders above  all  the  rest.  The  melancholy  story  of  this 
man  invested  him  with  peculiar  interest,  and  he  was  a 
welcome  guest  in  every  body's  family.  Shadows  had 
surrounded  him  from  his  childhood.  None  knew  his 
parentage,  nor  any  of  his  family  connections.  Somebody 
in  Winchester  had  charge  of  him  in  early  life;  regular 
and  ample  supplies  of  money  were  mysteriously  sent 
from  time  to  time  for  his  use.  He  was  educated  at  West 
Point,  and  joined  the  regular  army  before  the  war.  He 
was  a  noble-looking  man;  his  keen  gray  eyes  sparkling 
with  intellect,  and  his  pale,  thoughtful  face  surmounted 
by  an  Olympian  brow,  upon  which  was  stamped  the  sig- 
net of  true  manhood.  His  taciturnity  and  absent-mind- 
edness were  so  great  at  times  as  to  render  his  sanity 
doubtful.  Poor  fellow!  There  was  no  one  in  this  wide 
world  upon  whom  he  might  bestow  the  wealth  of  his 
affectionate  heart.  A  mother's  love  and  a  father's  care 
were  unknown  to  him;  yet  it  was  whispered  —  and  he 
knew  it — that  his  mother  lived,  and  that  he  was  the  only 
lineal  descendant  of  General  Morgan,  the  "Old  Wagoner" 
of  Revolutionary  memory.  He  was  killed  in  his  first 
battle,  and  few  of  his  regiment  ever  returned  to  chase 
away  the  shadows  left  upon  the  threshold  by  their  de- 
parture. Such  is  war;  God  help  us  to  appreciate  the 
blessings  of  peace ! 


8o  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

How  many  hearts  utter  this  prayer !  and  yet  we  glory 
in  the  prestige  that  surrounds  a  successful  warrior.  His 
garments  may  be  rolled  in  blood,  and  his  pathway  strewn 
with  mementos  of  human  suffering;  but  ho  matter — fte 
has  achieved  great  victories.  A  thrill  of  horror  may 
spread  through  sensitive  hearts,  mi-ngled  with  agony, 
grief,  and  indignation  at  the  devastations  of  war,  the 
sufferings  of  age  and  innocence,  and  the  violation  of 
humanity,  honor,  and  virtue;  yet  with  the  multitude  all 
this  is  forgotten  in  the  glory  of  illuminations  and  the  in- 
toxication of  victory.  War  may  be  sometimes  necessary; 
but,  alas,  how  sad  the  necessity!  How  cruel  the  results, 
even  though  the  object  for  which  it  is  undertaken  be  a 
laudable  one !  The  arts  and  sciences,  and  whatever  might 
be  expected  to  flourish  from  intellectual  culture  in  times 
of  peace,  wither  under  the  influence  of  war.  Thus  a 
Christian  nation  and  an  enlightened  people  should  not 
only  deprecate  it  as  the  greatest  evil,  but  never  under- 
take it  except  to  show  the  world  that  the  tree  of  liberty 
can  only  flourish  in  the  genial  atmosphere  of  freedom, 
the  natural  aliment  of  which  is  the  general  intelligence 
of  the  people.  Knowledge  is  not  merely  the  parent  of 
liberty,  but  constitutes  an  element  of  its  nature,  and  is 
as  essential  to  its  existence  as  the  air  is  to  animal  life. 
Every  philanthropic  effort  that  is  made,  every  peaceful 
act  that  is  done  for  the  regeneration  of  man,  elevates  him 
in  the  scale  of  improvement,  and  advances  him  to  that 
state  in  which  moral  force  shall  triumph  over  the  physical 
and  animal. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  81 


CHAPTER  IV. 

WE  removed  to  the  District  of  Columbia  in  Novem- 
ber, 1813,  locating  in  Georgetown.  Here  I  saw 
the  first  illumination  I  ever  witnessed.  The  whole  town, 
as  well  as  Washington,  was  one  blaze  of  light,  in  honor  of 
General  Harrison's  victory  over  the  British  and  Indians 
at  the  battle  of  the  Thames,  as  well  as  the  brilliant  vic- 
tory of  Commodore  Perry  on  Lake  Erie,  which  just  pre- 
ceded it.  Our  little  navy  had  crowned  itself  with  laurels 
in  its  ocean  .fights,  but  Harrison's  victory  followed  a  suc- 
cession of  disasters  by  land.  The  death  of  Tecumseh  in 
the  battle  of  the  Thames  was  also  hailed  with  great  joy 
by  the  nation,  as  it  deeply  depressed  the  Indians,  who  had 
become  exceedingly  fierce.  Tecumseh  was  a  host  in  him- 
self; and  had  his  lot  been  cast  under  favorable  circum- 
stances his  powerful  mind  and  heroic  soul  would  have 
distinguished  him,  not  only  as  a  -warrior,  but  as  an  orator 
and  statesman. 

The  first  Christmas  spent  in  our  new  home  was  marked 
by  a  sad  event,  the  remembrance  of  which  a  whole  life- 
time can  not  efface.  Our  new  and  handsome  house  was 
pleasantly  situated  in  an  eligible  part  of  the  town,  and 
the  last  piece  of  furniture  had  been  arranged  in  our  parlor 
on  Christmas  Eve.  We  were  rendered  completely  happy 
by  having  all  the  family  at  home.  With  what  undis- 
guised admiration  we  children  ran  from  room  to  room, 
clapping  our  hands  with  joy  as  we  examined  the  beauti- 
ful crimson  curtains  hanging  in  ample  folds,  and  glowing 


82  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

in  the  light  of  a  bright  wood  fire  burning  on  the  hearth. 
How  resplendent  the  tall  brass  andirons  looked !  How 
warm  and  soft  the  rich  carpeting  that  covered  the  floor! 
And  then  the  large  mantle-glass,  reflecting  the  dancing 
figures  of  happy  children,  who  were  extravagantly  gay 
Jwith  the  joy  of  a  new-found  home,  and  with  Christmas 
just  on  the  threshold!  The  brief  past  had  no  regrets  to 
fling  across  our  minds. 

"Time  flies  fast,  while  laughing  childhood  throws 
Handfuls  of  roses  at  him  as  he  goes." 

We  were  up  late,  arranging  Christmas  presents  for  the 
morrow,  my  busy,  happy  mother  allowing  me  to  aid  her 
in  all  her  preparations.  After  all  was  completed,  we  re- 
tired to  our  comfortable  beds  and  slept  until  aroused  by 
the  awful  cry  of,  Fire!  fire!  The  prolonged  echo  thrilled 
through  every  heart.  It  was  just  at  the  hour  when  silence 
reigns  supreme  in  the  deserted  streets.  The  watchman, 
who  commenced  his  rounds  when  "night  and  morning 
meet,"  had  called  the  hours  of  one,  two,  three,  and  retired 
from  our  vicinity,  when  a  servant-girl,  dismissed  the  day 
before  for  bad  conduct,  fired  one  of  the  out-buildings — 
applying  the  torch  in  such  a  manner  as  to  secure  the 
fulfillment  of  her  purpose.  The  children  were  all  above 
stairs,  my  father  and  mother  below,  when  the  thrilling 
cry  was  heard.  They  both  rushed  up-stairs,  but  were 
lost  in  the  dense  smoke  before  they  could  reach  our 
sleeping  apartment.  Lurid  flames,  playing  against  the 
windows,  awakened  me,  and  my  terrific  screams  led  them 
at  last  to  the  spot,  where  they  found  us  scrambling  about 
on  the  floor.  I  had  pulled  my  little  sisters  out  of  bed, 
and  was  seeking  my  own  clothes.  At  last  I  succeeded 
in  getting  on  my  dress  wrong- side-outwards;  but  neither 
shoes  nor  stockings  could  be  found,  nor  any  garments  for 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  83 

my  little  charge — both  of  whom,  however,  I  thoughtfully 
covered  with  a  blanket.  Just  at  this  moment  my  mother 
rushed  towards  us,  took  the  two  in  her  arms,  and  I  fol- 
lowed, dragging  another  after  me.  How  we  got  down- 
stairs I  never  knew.  My  next  recollection  was,  standing 
on  the  cold  pavement  with  my  bare  feet,  among  the  resf 
of  the  family,  who  had  all  escaped. 

By  this  time  friends  had  gathered  around  us,  and  we 
were  hurried  over  the  frozen  ground,  and  soon  sheltered 
under  a  friendly  roof  about  a  square  from  our  own.  My 
father,  as  soon  as  he  knew  we  were  all  safe,  turned  his 
attention  to  the  stable,  where  there  were  several  fine 
horses  fastened  in  the  stalls.  There  he  was  near  losing 
his  life  in  attempting  to  rescue,  for  the  second  time,  a 
favorite  horse,  that  had  rushed  again  into  the  flames.  He 
escaped,  however,  and  the  horse  too ;  but  he  was  so 
blackened  by  the  smoke  and  scorched  by  the  flame  as 
almost  to  render  his  identity  doubtful  to  those  around 
him.  His  escape  made  us  so  thankful  that  we  hardly 
thought  of  mourning  over  the  loss  of  property.  Much 
of  the  furniture  was  -  destroyed  by  the  recklessness  of 
those  who  tried  to  save  it.  Glass,  china,  and  mirrors 
were  indiscriminately  pitched  out  of  the  window,  and 
many  things  broken  to  pieces,  as  if  the  only  care  was  to 
keep  them  out  of  the  fire. 

One  thing  connected  with  this  fire  would  seem,  in 
these  days  of  steam  power,  very  slow.  Two  lines  were 
formed  reaching  to  the  river,  from  whence  the  water  was 
brought,  the  weather  being  so  cold  that  no  water  could 
be  obtained  from  the  pumps.  Through  one  line  the 
empty  buckets  were  passed  down,  and  returned  through 
the  other  full  of  water.  Police  officers  strode  up  and 
down  the  streets,  compelling  every  looker-on  to  fall  into 


84  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

the  ranks.     The  house  burned  down ;    and  the  fact  is, 
under  the  system  pursued,  I  never  knew  one  saved. 

When  the  whole  was  over  my  father  looked  as  calm 
as  if  nothing  unusual  had.  happened.  The  fiery  ordeal 
had  brought  no  shadow  to  his  brow,  because  not  one 
of  his  precious  family  was  lost.  "I  have,"  said  he, 
as  he  placed  his  hand  upon  his  waistcoat  pocket,  "but 
one  dollar  and  a  half  in  cash;  but  I  am  rich  in  the  pos- 
session of  all  my  loved  ones." 

Energy,  industry,  and  economy,  with  the  blessing  of 
God,  soon  restored  to  us  the  necessaries  and  comforts 
of  life. 

Happy  in  spite  of  external  circumstances,  my  naturally 
buoyant  disposition  "gave  care  to  the  winds."  My  elas- 
tic temperament  rebounded  after  the  most  intense  press- 
ure. I  could  not  realize  that  there  was  any  thing  but 
beauty  in  the  present  and  pleasure  in  the  future. 

My  education  was  continued  in  Georgetown  under  the 
care  of  two  excellent  teachers,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Simpson. 
A  considerable  portion  of  my  time  was  devoted  to  music, 
drawing,  and  French,  with  various  kinds  of  embroidery. 
The  girls  in  this  school  wrought  the  most  elaborate  sam- 
plers with  a  variety  of  stitches,  and  bordered  them  with 
pinks,  roses,  and  morning-glories,  and  sometimes,  when 
the  canvas  was  large  enough,  with  the  name  and  age  of 
every  member  of  the  family.  We  did  not  buy  French- 
worked  collars  then,  but  embroidered  them  for  ourselves,  ' 
and  some  of  them  were  exquisite  specimens  of  the  finest 
needle-work ;  and  the  skirts  of  our  white  muslin  dresses 
were  wrought,  frequently,  half  a  yard  in  depth. 

One  interesting  incident  then,  and  pleasant  to  remem- 
ber now,  occurs  to  me.  I  was  standing  with  a  group  of 
girls  near  a  deep-toned  piano,  listening  to  some  fine  airs 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  85 

played  by  Mr.  Simpson,  when  Miss  Bowie,  one  of  the 
grown  pupils,  stepped  in  with  the  "Star-spangled  Ban- 
ner" set  to  music.  This  was  a  charming  advent  to  us, 
as  we  had  heard  of  the  piece,  but  had  not  before  seen  it. 
Every  body's  patriotism  was  at  full  tide  then,  as  it  was 
soon  after  the  bombardment  of  Fort  M'Henry  and  our 
successful  repulse  of  the  British  at  Baltimore.  Mr.  Simp- 
son was  an  enthusiast  in  both  music  and  patriotism;  and 
the  chords  vibrated  under  his  touch,  sending  forth  peals 
of  harmony  that  made  the  welkin  ring.  He  seemed  in- 
spired to  the  very  ends  of  his  fingers.  A  dozen  girls 
soon  struck  in  with  their  choral  voices,  making  the  whole 
house  resound  with  the  music.  A  crowd  of  little  boys 
collected  around  the  front  door  and  at  the  window,  and  a 
scene  presented  itself  such  as  one  might  have  expected 
among  the  French  with  their  "Marseillaise." 

How  true  it  is  that  the  fire  of  patriotism  is  often 
stirred  into  a  flame,  even  from  the  ashes  of  despondency, 
by  national  airs!  The  "Star-spangled  Banner"  should  be 
a  consecrated  song  to  every  American  heart,  connected 
as  it  is  with  an  event  so  thrilling  in  character — so  marked 
among  the  honorable  achievements  of  this  nation,  when 
the  States  of  the  Union  stood  up  before  the  world,  ' '  dis- 
tinct like  the  billow,  but  one  like  the  sea" — when  that 
bold,  enterprising  spirit  that  gave  us  a  rank  among  the 
nations  of  the  earth  was  abroad  throughout  the  whole 
land.  The  powerful  effect  produced  by  this  soul-stirring 
song  was  not  owing  to  any  particular  merit  in  the  com- 
position, but  to  the  recollection  of  something  noble  in 
the  character  of  a  young  and  heroic  nation  successfully 
struggling  against  the  invasion  of  a  mighty  people  for 
life,  freedom,  and  domestic  happiness. 

The  influence  of  association  is  strongly  felt  in  giving 


86  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

strength  to  patriotism,  in  the  favorite  national  war-songs 
of  every  country.  Witness  the  success  of  Tyrtaeus, 
whom  the  Athenians,  in  derision,  sent  at  the  command 
of  the  Oracle  to  Sparta  during  the  second  Messenian 
war.  He  was  a  poor  schoolmaster,  of  no  reputation, 
short,  lame,  and  blind  of  one  eye;  but  he  possessed  a 
manly  and  elevated  soul,  and  so  inspired  the  Spartans  by 
his  thrilling  martial  strains,  that  the  Messenians  were 
reduced  to  subjection.  For  these  services  the  Spartans 
treated  him  with  great  respect,  and  granted  him  the 
rights  of  citizenship.  The  war  poems  of  Tyrtaeus  were 
ever  after  held  in  great  repute  by  the  Ancients,  who 
placed  him  by  the  side  of  Homer  as  a  heroic  poet. 

It  was  during  my  residence  in  Georgetown  that  the 
fiercest  conflicts  of  the  war  of  1812  occurred.  An  inci- 
dent connected  with  this  war  impressed  me  deeply,  and 
gave  me  a  terrific  idea  of  mobs.  Every  well  read  person 
is  familiar  with  the  history  of  the  bloody  drama  enacted 
in  Baltimore,  when  the  brave  General  Lingan  was  killed 
by  an  infuriated  mob,  though  he  begged  so  piteously 
that  his  life  might  be  spared  for  the  sake  of  his  wife  and 
children.  He  besought  them  to  remember  how  man- 
fully he  had  fought  for  his  country  in  the  "old  war;" 
but  his  voice  was  scarcely  heard  amid  the  roar  of  those 
wild  beasts,  who  almost  tore  him  to  pieces.  General 
Lee  (Light  Horse  Harry)  and  several  other  Revolutionary 
patriots  were  so  injured  by  the  same  mob  that  they  died 
soon  after.  They  were  opposed  to  the  war. 

Mrs.  Lingan,  with  her  family,  was  brought  imme- 
diately by  sympathizing  friends  to  Georgetown.  Never 
shall  I  forget  the  appearance  of  that  mourning  widow. 
Her  tall,  dignified  form  enveloped  in  sable  garments;  her 
two  daughters  accompanying  her,  reminded  me  of  Naomi 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  87 

returning  sorrowfully  to  her  own  people,  to  hide  her 
bowed  head  and  stricken  heart  among  friends,  who  vied 
in  kindness  to  the  untimely  bereaved. 

This  event,  like  many  others,  is  rendered  deeply  in- 
teresting by  a  glimpse  into  the  mysterious  long  time  ago. 
The  circumstances  attending  the  Baltimore  mob  having 
been  so  lightly  touched  upon  by  historians,  it  will,  doubt- 
less, be  interesting  to  my  readers  to  have  a  more  par- 
ticular account  of  the  matter  from  one  who  was  living 
so  near  the  scene  of  action.  War  was  declared  on  the 
1 8th  of  June,  1812.  The  immediate  effect  of  this  meas- 
ure was  a  violent  exasperation  of  parties.  The  friends 
of  the  Government  applauded  the  act  as  spirited  and  pa- 
triotic— the  opposition  condemned  it  as  unnecessary, 
unjustifiable,  and  impolitic.  In  'the  New  England  States, 
particularly,  where  the  "Revolutionary  War"  found  ar- 
dent and  active  supporters,  a  decided  opposition  was 
manifested.  They  conceded  that  abundant  provocation 
had  been  given,  but  denied  the  expediency,  as  the  nation 
was  not  sufficiently  prepared  for  the  conflict.  But  in 
many  of  our  large  cities  the  news  was  received  with 
extravagant  demonstrations  of  joy.  In  Baltimore,  espe- 
cially, the  popular  voice  was  strongly  in  favor  of  it,  and 
the  first  announcement  created  the  wildest  excitement. 
Two  great  parties  convulsed  the  country  at  that  time. 
They  were  so  evenly  balanced  that  it  was  difficult  to 
determine  the  preponderant  element.  The  Democrats 
were  powerful,  but  the  Federalists  were  determined. 
Distinguished  congressmen  pleaded  in  favor  of  the  war; 
and  among  them  stood  conspicuous  the  talented  young 
Kentuckian,  Henry  Clay,  pledging,  to  the  utmost  of 
its  ability,  the  support  of  his  own  State  to  the  Presi- 
dent. Orators  harangued  the  people,  and  their  burning 


88  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

eloquence  increased  the  fervor  of  their  shouts  for  "Free 
Trade  and  Sailor's  Rights."  Oh,  these  were  thrilling 
times!  To  warm  the  life  blood  and  fan  the  fires  of 
patriotism  was  the  broad  road  to  distinction.  The  Demo- 
crats were  denounced  as  reckless  demagogues  by  the 
opposition,  who  dreaded  the  rekindling  of  the  fires  of  the 
Revolution,  which  had  just  been  extinguished  by  the 
blood  of  multiplied  thousands;  but  there  was  no  staying 
the  surging  waves  of  the  popular  voice.  The  Demo- 
cratic Republicans  triumphed,  and  rejoiced  in  their  signal 
success.  Many  noble  patriots  'of  unimpeachable  integ- 
rity, and  brave  officers  who  had.  served  their  country  well 
and  faithfully,  were  conscientious  Federalists.  One  of 
these  was  Alexander  Hanson,  who  edited  a  paper  in 
Baltimore  called  the  Federal  Republican.  He  ventured  to 
indulge  in  some  severe  strictures  on  the  conduct  of  the 
Government.  The  consequence  was,  his  printing-office 
was  destroyed  by  the  populace,  and  he  obliged  to  fly  the 
city.  Hanson  was  a  bold  man,  and  determined  not  to  be 
put  down;  he  therefore  returned  to  Baltimore  with  a 
party  of  friends  who  had  volunteered  to  aid  him  in  for- 
cibly defending  his  house.  General  Henry  Lee,  who 
happened  to  be  in  the  city  when  the  riots  commenced, 
was  a  personal  friend  of  the  editor,  and,  with  character- 
istic impetuosity,  offered  his  services  against  the  mob. 
They  prepared  for  an  attack  by  arming  themselves  and 
barricading  the  house.  The  enraged  mob  attacked  the 
building  with  great  fury,  and  even  brought  a  cannon  to 
bear  in  the  assault.  The  besieged  defended  themselves 
coolly  and  successfully.  The  result  was  that  two  of  the 
assailants  were  killed  and  a  number  wounded,  which  so 
exasperated  the  crowd  that  but  for  the  arrival  of  the  city 
military  Hanson  and  his  friends  would,  in  all  probability, 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  89 

have  been  torn  to  pieces.  The  magistrates  came  for- 
ward and  interceded  between  the  two  parties — at  first 
both  were  firm,  but  finally  Hanson  and  his  friends  gave 
themselves  up  to  the  authorities,  and  were  lodged  in  jail 
for  safety.  There  was  a  temporary  but  a  deceitful 
calm ;  the  mob  was  not  appeased,  they  thirsted  for  blood. 
During  the  night,  while  the  "Argus"  of  the  law  slept, 
vainly  supposing  that  a  few  timid  guards  would  secure 
the  safety  of  the  prisoners,  the  storm  gathered  strength, 
and  anon  there  came  a  distinct  murmur  on  the  night 
breeze.  It  soon  increased  to  an  audible  sound,  and 
"down  with  the  traitors"  was  heard  on  every  side. 
Frequent  additions  had  swelled  the  numbers  of  the  riot- 
ers, and  they  were  heard  sweeping  through  the  streets 
of  the  city  onward  and  still  onward — no  earthly  power 
could  check  their  mad  career.  They  had  been  system- 
atically organized  by  their  leaders,  and  uniformed  by 
having  their  coats  turned  wrong  side  out.  The  jail  was 
broken  open,  and  with  waving  torches  and  flashing  wea- 
pons they  sought  their  victims  with  fierce  cries  and  bitter 
denunciations  from  cell  to  cell.  A  few  of  the  unfortu- 
nate men  broke  through  the  crowd  and  escaped;  the 
others  were  beaten  and  thrown  down  the  steps  of  the 
prison  into  the  street.  The  wounded  would  probably 
have  all  been  killed  had  it  not  been  for  a  humane  phys- 
ician who,  turning  his  own  coat  wrong  side  out,  mingled 
with  the  mob,  and  begged  the  bodies  of  those  apparently 
dead  for  dissection.  Mr.  Hanson,  upon  whom  every 
species  of  brutality  had  been  practiced,  lay  helpless  and 
as  if  dead  upon  the  stone  pavement.  One  ruffian  waved 
a  torchlight  before  his  eyes  and  pierced  his  finger 
through  and  through  with  a  penknife ;  yet  by  the  mighty 
power  of  his  will,  the  still  conscious  man  showed  no  signs 


po  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

of  life.  Just  at  this  period  came  the  good  Samaritan  to 
his  rescue;  who,  positively  asserting  that  he  was  dead, 
dragged  him  aside,  gave  him  a  drink  of  brandy  from  a 
flask  in  his  pocket,  and  when  sufficiently  revived  helped 
him  to  turn  his  coat,  and  escaped  with  him.  It  is  a  won- 
derful fact,  and  a  decided  proof  of  the  indomitable  obsti- 
nacy resulting  from  a  conviction  of  duty  that  Mr.  Han- 
son, after  being  driven  from  Baltimore  by  this  fearful 
tragedy,  established  his  printing-press  in  Georgetown, 
District  of  Columbia,  and  continued  to  publish  his  paper 
during  the  whole  war. 

The  revolution  of  '76  was  a  contest  of  doctrine.  It 
resulted  in  the  triumph  of  a  principle — the  sovereignty  of 
the  people.  The  permanence  of  this  triumph  was  an 
unworked  problem,  until  the  violent  concussion  of  1812 
shook  the  newly-formed  Government  to  its  very  center. 
This  shock  only  seemed  to  settle  its  foundation  stones 
more  deeply  and  firmly,  and  taught  the  "sea-girt  isle" 
that  we  were  not  unworthy  our  noble  ancestors,  who 
proudly  felt  themselves  a  part  of 

"That  happy  race  of  men,  that  little  world, 
That  precious  gem  set  in  a  silver  sea." 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  91 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  Winter  of  1813  was  protracted,  and  unusually 
severe.  Terrible  suffering  resulted  from  impeded 
circulation  in  trade  and  commerce,  and  our  newly-estab- 
lished Government,  though  firm,  energetic,  and  untiring 
in  its  efforts  to  relieve  the  people,  was  yet  too  limited  in 
its  resources  to  do  much  more  than  provide  for  the 
army.  From  eighteen  to  twenty  dollars  was  the  price 
per  cord  for  firewood.  Coal  was  scarcely  known  as  fuel 
in  private  families. 

The  country  round  about  Washington  and  in  the 
immediate  vicinity  of  Georgetown  was  sterile  to  a  prov- 
erb, and  the  market  had  been  supplied  from  the  more 
fertile  counties  in  Virginia  and  Maryland;  but  now  the 
river  was  frozen,  and  the  roads  almost  impassable.  Thus 
all  classes  suffered — but  the  poor  especially.  Pinched 
faces  and  tattered  garments  met  the  eye  at  every  corner 
of  the  streets;  and  many  a  poor  little  half  frozen  child 
crept  into  our  kitchen  daily,  begging  for  cold  victuals 
and  the  privilege  of  getting  one  good  warming  during 
the  twenty-four  hours  by  the  glow  of  a  hospitable  fire. 
How  deeply  are  those  sad  scenes  engraven  on  my 
memory,  and  it  is  not  an  exaggeration  to  say  that  these 
painful  impressions  and  others  connected  with  the  horrors 
of  that  war  have  followed  me  through  life;  and  I  shud- 
der, even  now,  as  I  think  of  them.  For  three  years 
every  breeze  bore  upon  its  wings  the  wail  of  the  widow 
and  the  orphan,  and  the  blood  of  thousands  marked  the 


92  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

footsteps  of  invasion;  burning  cities  lighted  armies  to 
indiscriminate  plunder,  and  told  of  the  wide-spread  des- 
olation on  the  Atlantic  shores. 

My  youngest  brother,  and  the  youngest  child  of  my 
parents,  was  called  William  Henry  Harrison,  and  lived 
to  prove  himself  worthy  the  heroic  name  he  bore.  To 
this  merry-hearted,  laughter-loving  brother  we  were  all 
much  attached,  and  amply  did  he  repay  our  love  and 
devotion.  My  mother's  heart  was  bound  up  in  the 
child;  and  when  after  the  lapse  of  many  years  she  be- 
came a  widow,  he  was  still  more  the  idol  of  her  affec- 
tions. He  finally  went  to  Texas,  and  did  good  service 
in  helping  that  State  throw  off  the  Mexican  yoke.  When 
its  independence  was  fully  established,  being  fond  of  ad- 
venture and  reckless  of  his  own  life,  he  started  again  in 
pursuit  of  further  excitement,  and  after  leading  for  some 
years  a  roving  life,  suffering  from  exposure  and  sickness 
and  reverse  of  fortune,  he  lost  his  life  in  attempting  to 
swim  across  the  River  Brazos.  My  mother  had  passed 
away  to  her  home- in  heaven  before  the  news  of  his  death 
reached  us.  It  was  well — she  was  saved  one  of  the  most 
sorrowful  pangs  a  mother's  heart  can  feel. 

My  oldest  brother,  Quin,  who  had  the  advantage  of 
superior  teachers,  was  well  and  thoroughly  educated,  and 
was  said  to  be  a  classical  scholar  of  no  mean  atainments. 
To  him  I  was  fondly  attached — the  playfellow  of  my  early 
years,  the  friend  and  companion  of  my  girlhood.  We 
read  together  the  legends  of  olden  times,  and  lived  in  an 
enchanted  world,  rife  with  that  pure,  unmingled  fiction 
which  left  no  injury  behind,  but  rather  induced  a  love  of 
reading.  We  laughed  at  the  merry  ride  of  "John  Gilpin," 
and  felt  the  strongest  sympathy  for  the  "Babes  in  the 
Wood,"  over  whose  fate  we  shed  many  tears;  and  we 


SIXTY  YEARS  SN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  93 

formed  an  attachment  for  the  robin  red-breast  that  so 
kindly  covered  the  dead  babies  with  leaves.  O,  how  we 
reveled  in  a  bright  new  story-book,  which  we  both  pre- 
ferred to  any  other  gift!  We  had  a  dear  little  corner 
in  my  mother's  room,  which,  by  the  by,  was  always  one 
of  the  largest  on  the  ground  floor — for  "we  were  many," 
and  she  would  have  her  children  much  about  her;  and 
when  we  were  tired  of  reading  we  walked  together  through 
the  flower-gardens,  and  over  the  green  hills  called  George- 
town Heights.  Beautiful,  almost  sublime,  in  every  season, 
were  these  crowning  glories  of  the  pretty  little  city. 
There  were  goodly  green  meadows,  spangled  with  starry 
eyes,  making  the  loveliest  play-grounds  and  the  sweetest 
trysting-spots  for  the  school-children. 

It  was  a  sad  parting  when  my  brother,  young  in  years, 
entered  the  regular  army.  He  was  eighteen  when  a 
lieutenancy  was  offered  him  in  the  Twelfth  Regiment, 
which  was  accepted,  much  to  the  regret  of  the  whole 
family,  and  to  my  mother  a  life-long  sorrow.  He  was 
her  firstborn  and  the  darling  of  her  heart,  and  she  had 
fondly  hoped  to  see  him  established  as  a  useful  citizen  in 
private  life.  His  choice  of  the  army  left  a  shadow  upon 
our  household  which  was  never  entirely  dissipated;  for 
though  he  had  no  battles  to  fight,  having  commenced  his 
career  after  the  war  closed,  yet  with  all  his  tender  sym- 
pathies, and  warm,  gushing  affections  for  home,  we  know 
he  could  not  be  happy  forever  separated  from  his  family. 
He  was  generous,  ardent,  and  brave;  soon  formed  many 
friendships,  and  rose  rapidly  to  offices  of  honor  and 
profit;  but  in  less  than  three  short  years  he  died  far 
away  from  home  and  friends,  in  Florida,  where  his  regi- 
ment was  stationed. 

Many  touching  incidents  of  generous  self-denial  and 

7 


94  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

brotherly  kindness,  manifested  to  the  soldiers  under  his 
command,  are  written  in  legible  characters  upon  my  heart 
and  memory.  Of  all  duties,  the  hardest  is  to  forget  a 
great  sorrow.  The  very  effort  to  forget  teaches  us  to 
remember.  It  was  as  the  friend  and  companion  of  this 
brother  on  one  of  his  short  visits  home,  in  1817,  that  I 
first  saw  General  Sam.  Houston.  He  was  an  officer  in 
the  same  regiment  —  a  young  man  of  fine  appearance, 
tall,  erect,  and  well-proportioned,  with  agreeable  manners. 
I  remember  him  well,  because  my  brother  was  much  at- 
tached to  him.  Thirty-five  years  afterwards  I  met  him 
in  Lexington,  attending  the  funeral  obsequies  of  Henry 
Clay.  Time  had  dealt  lightly  with  him;  he  had  not  lost 
his  soldierly  bearing,  and  seemed  yet  in  the  vigor  of 
manhood,  though  his  hair  and  beard  were  frosted  by  the 
passing  years. 

In  connection  with  General  Houston  I  am  reminded 
of  Colonel  Thornton  Posey,  who  was  intimately  associ- 
ated with  my  brother  during  his  last  visit  to  the  home 
circle  in  Washington.  This  dear  brother,  not  twenty 
years  old,  held  the  honorable  position  of  first  lieutenant 
in  Colonel  Posey's  regiment.  His  youth  and  inexperience 
rendered  him  liable  to  many  temptations  "on  the  tented 
field,"  from  which  he  was  shielded  by  his  noble  colonel. 
The  result  was  a  sincere  friendship,  which,  from  its  deli- 
cacy and  beauty,  its  depth  of  devotion  and  unfailing  ten- 
derness, might  be  said  to  be  like  that  of  David  and  Jon- 
athan. The  effect  upon  each  was  like  the  brightening 
and  softening  radiance  with  which  the  pencil  of  Nature 
paints  the  West  at  sunset. 

Colonel  Posey  had  nobly  distinguished  himself  in  the 
war  of  1812,  and  was  retained  in  the  peace  establishment 
as  a  highly  esteemed  and  trustworthy  officer. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  95 

I  first  met  him  at  a  social  party  given  at  our  own 
house  to  the  officers  of  his  regiment.  He  was  the  honored 
guest  of  the  evening,  and  of  course  received  much  atten- 
tion from  the  family.  His  appearance  was  prepossessing. 
A  lofty  forehead,  finely  cut  features,  a  large,  sensible 
mouth,  flexible  and  expressive,  but  indicative  of  strong 
resolution,  marked  his  individuality.  His  proud,  pale 
face  and  dignified  bearing  fixed  the  attention  of  every 
observer.  When  drawn  into  conversation  his  noble  brow 
seemed  to  expand,  and  thought  sat  visibly  upon  it,  while 
a  sweet,  melancholy  smile  lit  up  his  whole  countenance, 
like  that  which  gleams  on  the  face  of  Nature  when,  after 
a  stormy  day,  the  sun  bursts  forth  for  a  moment  and  then 
buries  itself  in  the  darkness  of  night.  His  conversation 
displayed  an  acute  and  cultivated  intellect,  and  his  engag- 
ing manners  and  delicate  politeness  as  well  fitted  him  for 
the  courtly  drawing-room  as  his  soldierly  bearing  and 
bravery  for  the  camp  and  battle-field.  The  feeling  of 
interest  awakened  then  deepened  as  our  acquaintance 
ripened,  and  our  admiration  matured  into  esteem  and 
respect.  On  the  evening  referred  to,  after  he  had  passed 
through  the  usual  polite  observances  of  the  occasion,  he 
withdrew  from  the  gay  crowd  promenading  through  the 
rooms,  and  remained  in  a  recess  apart,  apparently  occu- 
pied with  his  own  deep  thoughts,  like  one  standing  on 
the  misty  border  land  which  lies  between  this  life  and  the 
world  of  shadows. 

The  sad  circumstance  that  had  cast  a  shadow  on  his 
pathway,  and  left  an  incurable  wound  in  his  heart,  was 
explained  to  us  afterwards,  brightening  his  character  in 
our  estimation,  and  securing  increased  sympathy  with 
him.  He  had  been  compelled  in  self-defense  to  take  the 
life'  of  a  subordinate  officer,  who,  having  frequently 


96  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

threatened  and  constantly  sought  an  opportunity  to  kill 
him,  had  at  last  assailed  him  when  alone,  and  under  cir- 
cumstances which  left  him  no  alternative  but  to  take  his 
life.  He  was  tried,  and  honorably  acquitted — the  world 
justifying  the  act.  But,  exquisitely  organized  as  he  was, 
every  pulse  of  his  heart  throbbing  with  benevolence,  and 
perhaps  too  sensitive  and  conscientious,  he  was  over- 
powered with  the  reflection  of  having  destroyed  a  human 
life,  and  his  soul  was  filled  with  horror  at  the  necessity 
which  forced  him  to  the  deed.  His  admirable  powers  of 
intellect  and  greatness  of  soul  had  elevated  him  among 
his  fellow-men,  and  on  the  battle-field  he  had  won  a  name 
above  all  hereditary  titles — the  bravest  among  the  brave. 
But  this  one  sad  event  drew  a  dark  cloud  over  all  his 
present  and  future. 

Unfitted  by  his  genius  for  the  ordinary  routine  of 
camp  life  in  the  peace  establishment,  he  embraced  the 
first  opportunity  to  battle  again  in  the  cause  of  freedom. 
He  joined  General  M'Gregor  in  an  expedition  against 
Amelia  Island,  in  South  America.  His  generous  and 
gallant  soul  would  gladly  have  been  instrumental  in  rais- 
ing the  banners  of  liberty  over  an  enslaved  land ;  but 
when  he  found  that  a  bold  military  expedition  was  about 
to  degenerate  into  a  privateering  enterprise,  he  threw  up 
his  commission,  and  returned  to  the  United  States,  where 
he  died  of  bilious  fever,  at  Wilmington,  North  Carolina. 
He  went  to  his  grave  honored  and. lamented,  and  deserves 
to  be  remembered  by  his  country  as  long  as  the  voice  of 
Liberty  is  heard  in  the  land. 

Oh,  the  days  that  are  no  more! 

"Each  fainter  trace  that  memory  holds 

So  fondly  of  departed  years, 
In  one  broad  glance  the  soul  beholds, 
And  all  that  was  at  once  appears." 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  97 

Incidents  fraught  with  cherished  recollections,  the  ris- 
ing forms  of  those  I  loved  and  admired  in  the  irrecovera- 
ble long-ago,  an  unexpected  meeting  with  a  dear  friend, 
the  remembrance  of  a  look  even,  come  sometimes  to  me 
with  a  peculiar  power,  fresh  as  if  it  were  but  yesterday. 

The  treasures  of  memory  are  so  much  saved  from  the 
wreck  of  life,  and  once  possessed  they  are  ours  forever. 
That  which  has  happened  becomes  a  part  of  our  lives,  and 
though  for  the  time  forgotten  or  overlooked,  it  yet  rests 
there,  in  the  storehouse  of  the  mind,  ready  when  the 
right  chord  is  touched  to  start  forth,  mellowed,  perhaps, 
though  not  weakened,  by  the  lapse  of  time.  Whatever 
may  be  our  future,  the  memory  of  life's  past  joys  is  full 
of  unspeakable  comforts,  and  present  griefs  have  often  an 
added  pang  from  such  remembrances. 

"Sorrow's  crown  of  sorrow  is  remembering  happier  things." 

Washington  fifty  years  ago  was  a  delightful  retreat,  full 
of  bewildering  loveliness.  I  loved  to  ramble  over  the 
grounds  surrounding  the  magnificent  old  capitol  and  revel 
in  its  beauties — the  beauty  of  lovely  skies,  luxuriant 
trees,  rich  herbage,  and  myriads  of  bright  flowers.  The 
hall  windows  of  the  quaint  old  building  commanded  an 
enchanting  view  of  hill  and  plain,  and  at  the  end  of  an 
avenue  of  poplars  a  mile  long  could  be  seen  the  simple, 
noble  mansion  designed  for  the  President  of  the  United 
States — a  fitting  habitation  for  the  executive  of  this  great 
republic.  In  the  distance,  her  feet  laved  in  the  gleaming 
waters  of  the  Potomac,  was  the  little  city  of  Georgetown, 
her  green  hills  crowned  with  groups  of  noble  trees,  some 
of  them  of  ancient  date,  looking  like  the  natural  guard- 
ians of  the  charming  country-seats  scattered  in  the  vicinity. 

The  Summer  following  the  events  just  related  was  spent 


98  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

by  our  family  in  sweet  seclusion,  which  united  a  loving 
household  more  closely  together.  It  was  the  last  I  ever 
spent  here,  and  it  is  rife  with  some  of  the  sweetest  recol- 
lections and  tenderest  associations  of  this  early  home  of 
my  heart.  The  crowd  of  strangers,  office-seekers,  and 
resident  ministers,  with  their  gay  retinues,  had  gone. 
After  the  adjournment  of  Congress  the  city  was  exceed- 
ingly dull  to  these  pleasure-seekers.  A  strange  atmos- 
phere of  repose  pervaded  the  place.  There  was  oppor- 
tunity to  enjoy  life's  leisure  in  its  fullest  sense. 

My  father  had  gone  to  the  far  West  on  business,  and 
my  two  older  brothers  being  away,  I  was  left  to  the  con- 
stant companionship  of  my  mother,  which  I  had  been 
deprived  of  by  my  long  absence  at  school.  Even  at  this 
remote  period  my  heart  thrills  at  the  recollection  of  this 
time — the  quiet  readings,  the  solemn-  Scripture  teach- 
ings, which  fell  like  the  dews  of  heaven  into  my  young 
heart,  and  I  acknowledge  with  tearful  thankfulness  the 
sweet  privilege  then  enjoyed. 

The  taking  of  Washington  City  in  1814  was  marked 
by  many  interesting  circumstances  and  unwritten  inci- 
dents, affecting  to  the  heart  and  worth  remembering. 
August  24,  1814,  was  one  of  the  sultriest  of  Sum- 
mer days.  The  British,  after  a  rapid  march  across  the 
country,  reached  Bladensburg,  eight  miles  from  Wash- 
ington, in  the  hottest  part  of  the  afternoon.  A  small 
number  of  hastily  collected  troops  were  prepared  to  meet 
the  foe;  yet,  so  exhausted  were  the  way-worn  British 
soldiers,  that  even  these,  few  as  they  were,  would  have 
been  sufficient  to  keep  them  out  of  Washington  had 
there  been  any  order  or  discipline.  As  it  was,  they  were 
driven,  fighting  as  they  retreated,  in  great  confusion  to 
the  capital.  Their  pursuers,  however,  were  held  at  bay, 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  99 

for  a  short  time,  by  the  gallant  General  Winder,  who,  not 
being  supported,  was  compelled  to  yield  to  the  enemy, 
whose  numbers  more  than  quadrupled  his  own.  The 
British  commanders,  flushed  with  success,  drove  the 
panic-stricken  Americans  before  them,  and  entered  the 
city  amid  the  tumult  and  glitter  of  an  army,  with  flying 
colors  and  beating  drums.  Dreading  the  mighty  desola- 
tion which  threatened  them,  the  President  and  the  Cabi- 
net, with  the  principal  citizens,  fled  precipitately  through 
Georgetown  and  across  the  Potomac.  Nothing  was  seen 
but  people  anxious  to  escape  the  dreaded  catastrophe. 
Carriages,  wagons,  carts,  vehicles  of  every  description, 
crowded  with  women  and  children;  servants  hurrying  in 
every  direction,  carrying  away  what  goods  and  chattels 
they  were  able  to  bear;  amid  the  wildest  confusion  of 
men  on  horseback  and  exhausted  stragglers  from  the 
battle-field,  made  up  a  moving  panorama  for  miles.  It 
was  a  melancholy  sight  to  behold,  some  wringing  their 
hands  and  wailing,  as  if  they  were  leaving  behind  all  that 
made  life  valuable,  and  turning  again  and  again  to  take 
a  last  glimpse  of  home;  while  others  bitterly  denounced 
their  own  selfish  flight,  forsaking  friends  who  absolutely 
refused  to  leave. 

The  crowd  swept  on,  wave  after  wave ;  but  the  most 
melancholy  object  among  them  was  the  President  of  the 
United  States,  whose  delicate  frame  and  feeble  health 
might  have  rendered  him  an  object  of  compassion,  had 
he  been  an  isolated  man.  Like  poor  David,  when  he 
fled  from  Jerusalem  before  his  rebellious  son,  there  were 
none  to  cry  "God  bless  him."  Yet  Mr.  Madison  was 
worthy,  for  he  had  proved  himself  a  patriot  and  an  emi- 
nent statesman.  The  blame  of  this  awful  reverse  rested 
upon  the  Secretary  of  War,  whose  name  has  been  handed 


ioo  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

down  to  posterity  shrouded  in  darkness.  He  might  have 
prevented  a  deed  equally  disgraceful  to  England  and  to 
this  country.  He  was  either  a  traitor  or  totally  unfit  for 
his  responsible  office. 

My  father  and  mother  tarried  at  home  during  this 
awful  visitation,  but  all  the  rest  of  the  family  had  been 
sent  into  the  country  some  days  previous.  Every  farm- 
house was  filled  with  supernumerary  tenants,  while  many 
of  the  fugitives  were  sheltered  in  tents  or  haunted  the 
skirts  of  the  woods,  eagerly  detaining  every  passer-by 
with  inquiries  after  the  news.  I  was  on  a  visit  near  Mar- 
tinsburg,  Virginia,  enduring,  for  two  weeks,  the  misery 
of  the  most  exaggerated  reports. 

Mrs.  Madison  distinguished  herself  during  these  trou- 
bles by  her  admirable  firmness  and  superior  womanly 
tact.  Nature  had  lavished  upon  her  more  of  the  mate- 
rials of  happiness  and  greatness  than  are  usually  found  in 
women  who  sway  the  fashionable  world.  She  sustained 
herself  nobly,  and  from  her  own  quiet  elevation  of  char- 
acter watched  calmly  the  disastrous  rout,  and  sank  not,  for 
one  moment,  into  despondency.  Mr.  Madison  might  have 
been  overborne  by  the  triumph  of  his  enemies,  had  she  not 
by  her  own  self-possession  inspired  him  with  an  energy 
that  enabled  him  to  rise  superior  to  his  misfortunes.  I  do 
not  believe  the  executive  office  has  ever  been  filled  by 
a  worthier  man  or  a  better  statesman  since  the  days  of 
Washington  than  James  Madison;  nor  was  there  ever  a 
presiding  genius  in  the  White  House  more  beloved,  ad- 
mired, and  respected  than  his  elegant  and  graceful  wife. 

A  few  of  the  citizens  of  Washington  remained  in  their 
own  homes  with  a  view  of  saving  their  property  if  possi- 
ble. I  heard  a  lady  by  the  name  of  Coolidge  relate  an 
adventure,  which  I  think  worth  recording.  She  had  sent 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  101 

her  whole  family  into  the  country  and  remained  alone  in 
her  house,  which  was  a  large  and  handsome  building  at 
the  entrance  of  Pennsylvania  Avenue,  and  in  the  imme- 
diate vicinity  of  the  President's  mansion.  She  stood  on 
her  front  door-step  while  the  retreating  army  passed 
through  with  the  redcoats  close  at  their  heels.  She  had 
prepared  a  tub  of  cool  water,  from  which  she  gave  a  cup 
to  each  flying  American  soldier,  and  occasionally  to  a 
poor  redcoat,  whose  exhaustion  from  fatigue  and  heat 
was  pitiful  to  behold.  About  dark  several  British  of- 
ficers, apparently  of  high  rank,  halted  before  her  door 
and  asked  for  refreshments — demanding,  imperatively, 
that  a  hot  supper  should  be  immediately  prepared  for 
them.  She  declined  upon  the  plea  that  he  had  nothing 
in  the  house  nor  in  the  larder.  They  insisted,  until  at 
last  she  positively  refused,  adding,  that  if  she  had  any 
thing  to  give  it  should  be  to  her  own  people.  Upon 
this  a  tall  man,  of  majestic  carriage  and  splendidly 
mounted,  who,  she  afterwards  learned,  was  General  Ross, 
assured  her  that,  by  attending  to  their  request,  she  would 
not  only  save  her  own  house  from  being  plundered  or 
burnt,  but  those  of  her  neighbors,  if  they  would  aid  her 
in  supplying  what  she  could  not  furnish;  besides  which, 
she  should  be  handsomely  paid. 

Supper  was  prepared,  and  she  was  invited  to  preside. 
The  conversation  was  not  only  agreeable,  but  cheerful, 
almost  to  merriment  among  the  guests.  Before  the  meal 
was  finished,  however,  General  Ross  turned  suddenly  to 
Mrs.  Coolidge,  and  asked  what  was  the  opinion  of  the 
Americans  in  reference  to  Admiral  Cockburn.  The  lady, 
quite  at  her  ease  through  the  politeness  of  the  officers, 
replied,  "What!  the  pirate  Cockburn?  Why,  they  re- 
gard him  as  a  mere  chicken  stealer — a  robber  of  hen 


102  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

roosts.  He  has  shown  such  an  expertness  in  these  feats 
as  would  throw  all  the  tricks  of  schoolboys  and  college 
rogues  in  the  shade.  He  certainly  is  a  master  forager, 
and  that  is  all  he  is  fit  for."  She  had  scarce  finished  the 
sentence  when  an  officer  on  her  right,  striking  the  table 
with  his  clenched  fist,  and  springing  to  his  feet,  stepped 
up  to  General  Ross  and  whispered  something  in  his  ear; 
upon  which  the  General  instantly  arose,  and  introduced, 
with  the  utmost  formality,  "Admiral  Cockburn,  of  the 
British  Navy."  Mrs.  Coolidge  was  near  fainting,  expect- 
ing instant  death  for  her  temerity;  but  General  Ross 
quieted  her  fears,  and  requested  the  indignant  Admiral 
to  withdraw  his  hand  from  the  hilt  of  his  sword,  which, 
in  his  anger,  he  had  firmly  grasped,  saying,  "We  do  not 
war  with  ladies."  The  doughty  Admiral,  forgetting  all 
etiquette  and  gentility,  swore  in  the  frenzied  excitement 
of  passion  that  he  would  finish  his  supper  by  the  light 
of  the  President's  burning  house;  upon  which  he  rushed 
out  with  great  precipitancy,  and  was  soon  seen  striding 
onward,  torch  in  hand,  to  carry  his  threat  into  execution ; 
and  he  was  actually  the  prime  mover  in  the  vandalism 
that  followed.  It  is  said  that  he  even  stepped  into  the 
dining-room,  while  the  building  was  on  fire,  and  drank  a 
glass  of  wine  to  the  health  of  Mrs.  Madison,  whom  he 
familiarly  styled  "Queen  Dolly." 

General  Ross  was  soon  after  killed  at  the  battle  of 
Baltimore,  and  every  body  regretted  that  it  had  not  been 
Cockburn;  the  former  possessing  all  the  noble  and  gen- 
erous qualities  of  a  gentleman  and  a  soldier,  the  latter 
one  of  the  meanest  and  most  contemptible  of  mankind, 
who,  had  he  been  reared  in  heathen  Rome,  might  have 
been  a  Nero. 

The    cannon    foundry    near    Georgetown,    which   had 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  103 

done  so  good  service  during  the  war,  the  British  were 
bent  on  destroying  before  they  left  the  district.  It  be- 
longed to  a  Mr.  Foxall,  a  Wesleyan  Methodist  of  the  old 
stamp.  This  excellent  man  had  been  living  in  George- 
town ever  since  the  close  of  the  Revolution;  and  was  as 
firm  a  patriot  as  though  native  born.  A  squad  of  sol- 
diers was  on  the  line  of  march  toward  the  foundry 
while  the  public  buildings  were  burning.  They  had 
reached  the  bridge  thrown  over  the  little  creek  which 
separates  Washington  from  Georgetown,  when  they  were 
called  to  a  sudden  halt  by  a  tremendous  explosion.  Soon 
after  a  courier  came  dashing  up  at  full  speed,  warning 
them  not  to  cross  the  bridge;  that  the  explosion  just 
heard  was  from  Greenleaf's  Point,  a  fort  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  Potomac  from  Washington,  recently  vacated 
by  the  Americans.  One  hundred  and  fifty  British  sol- 
diers had  been  blown  up,  their  mangled  remains  flying 
in  every  direction.  The  fact  was,  several  barrels  of  pow- 
der had  been  thrown  into  a  dry  well  by  the  garrison 
before  leaving,  to  keep  it  from  falling  into  the  hands  of 
the  enemy.  The  detachment  sent  over  to  destroy  the 
fort  were  dying  of  thirst,  and  one  of  the  men  threw 
a  torch  into  the  well  to  ascertain  if  it  contained  any 
water — hence  the  catastrophe.  The  troops  marching  to 
destroy  the  foundry  were  arrested  in  their  course,  for, 
not  knowing  the  real  cause  of  the  explosion,  it  was  sup- 
posed there  might  be  torpedoes  placed  under  the  bridge 
for  their  destruction  also;  instead  of  proceeding,  there- 
fore, to  their  destined  work,  they  returned  to  the  city  in 
double  quick  time. 

The  alarm  spread  rapidly  among  the  invaders,  and 
their  whole  army  was  immediately  withdrawn,  afraid 
even  to  tarry  during  the  night,  although  the  poor, 


104  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

exhausted  soldiers  were  dropping  by  the  way  from  fatigue 
and  hunger. 

Mr.  Foxall's  foundry  was  saved,  and  the  good  old  vet- 
eran of  the  cross,  true  to  his  promise  in  prayer  to  God 
for  the  safety  of  his  property  and  the  lives  of  his  work- 
men, forthwith  built  a  church  in  Washington  City,  which 
is  yet  a  standing  monument  of  his  faithfulness.  This 
church  is  called  the  "Foundry,"  in  commemoration  of 
the^ event  just  related.  If  I  mistake  not,  this  was  the 
first  Methodist  church  erected  in  .Washington.  It  was 
completely  finished  and  furnished,  even  to  the  Bible  and 
hymn-book,  by  Mr.  Foxall  alone : 

"A  leaf  of  gold, 
Glowing  in  the  warm  boolj  of  gratitude." 

Long  after  the  close  of  the  war,  this  pious  old  Wes- 
leyan  and  his  prim-looking  wife — they  had  no  children — 
might  be  seen  walking  side  by  side  to  this  goodly  church, 
where  an  excellent  congregation  still  continues  to  worship. 

On  the  night  that  witnessed  the  burning  of  the  public 
buildings  a  fearful  hurricane  raged  for  some  time  with 
intense  fury;  roofs  were  blown  off;  shingles  flew  in  every 
direction,  like  paper;  chimneys  fell,  cottages  were  blown 
over,  and  there  is  no  telling  when  the  conflagration  would 
have  ended,  had  it  not  been  for  the  drenching  rain  that 
followed.  A  few  days  after,  some  British  ships  visited 
Alexandria,  and  extorted  an  enormous  ransom  from  the 
town,  whence  all  our  troops  had  been  withdrawn.  The 
whole  surrounding  country  lay  as  much  at  their  mercy 
as  if  entirely  without  inhabitants.  For  a  few  hours  the 
red  -  coats  paraded  through  the  town,  appropriating  to 
themselves  whatever  they  liked,  notwithstanding  the  pre- 
vious compact.  This  was  not  war,  but  devastation. 

An  incident  occurred  during  this  time  illustrating  the 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  105 

courage  and  patriotism  of  a  woman  who  kept  a  variety 
shop.  A  british  officer,  entering  her  store,  asked: 

"Have  you  a  husband  or  sons?  If  so,  where  are 
they?" 

"•I  have  a  husband  and  two  sons,  who  are  trying  to 
defend  their  country  at  the  risk  of  their  lives ;  and  I  hope 
you  may  meet  them  yet." 

"Indeed!  and  you  have  here  an  instrument  of  war?" 
striking  a  drum  which  lay  on  the  counter. 

"And  here  is  another,"  she  replied,  taking  a  loaded 
pistol  from  a  shelf;  "and  if  you  dare  take  another  article 
in  this  shop  you  shall  receive  its  contents." 

Her  hand  was  on  the  trigger.  The  officer  involunta- 
rily stepped  back,  saying: 

"Put  aside  your  weapon,  madam.  If  your  men  had 
manifested  as  much  firmness  you  might  have  been  spared 
the  devastation  we  have  accomplished  in  your  country." 

It  is  well  known  that  the  battle  of  New  Orleans  was 
fought  after  peace  was  ratified  by  our  Commissioners  at 
Ghent,  the  news  of  which  did  not  reach  the  United  States 
until  after  the  eighth  of  January.  The  universal  joy  felt 
throughout  the  whole  country  was  scarcely  less  than  that 
realized  at  the  close  of  the  Revolution. 

General  Jackson  and  his  wife  made  their  advent  at 
Washington  soon  after,  and  created  quite  a  sensation 
among  the  elite  of  that  day.  Mrs.  Jackson,  though  un- 
educated, was  an  amiable  Christian  woman;  and,  while 
laughed  at  for  her  grammatical  blunders,  made  herself 
loved  for  her  kindness,  and  admired  for  her  unsophisti- 
cated manners.  The  General,  who  even  then  bore  the 
soubriquet  of  "Old  Hickory,"  was  cordially  acknowl- 
edged as  a  noble,  high-hearted  man. 

I   had  the   pleasure   of  witnessing  a  theatrical  enter- 


106  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

tainment,  prepared  in  honor  of  these  distinguished  guests 
of  the  nation.  Their  entrance  into  the  theater  was  an- 
nounced by  tremendous  cheering.  The  General  was  tall, 
thin,  and  weather-beaten;  but  there  was  a  Cassius-like 
firmness  on  his  lip,  and  his  brow  was  marked  with  the 
lines  of  thought  and  care.  He  was  rather  annoyed  at 
being  the  observed  of  all  observers,  and  oppressed  by  the 
attention  that  was  paid  him;  while  Mrs.  Jackson,  "fair, 
fat,  and  forty,"  with  a  good  motherly  look,  seemed 
amused,  and  gazed  with  intense  gratification  at  the  dis- 
play made  in  honor  of  him  in  whom  her  soul  was  cen- 
tered. A  flattering  address  by  the  marshal  of  the  day 
covered  the  modest  General  with  confusion,  but  elicited 
a  few  words  of  acknowledgment,  which  charmed  by  their 
unaffected  simplicity. 

Banners,  transparencies,  etc.,  passed  in  rapid  proces- 
sion across  the  stage,  interluded  with  occasional  cheering 
for  the  hero  of  New  Orleans.  The  evening's  entertain- 
ment concluded  at  last ;  and  the  idol  upon  whose  altar  all 
this  incense  was  poured  seemed  as  much  delighted  at 
escaping  the  adulation  by  which  he  was  surrounded  as  a 
tired  school-boy  from  a  lengthened  exhibition,  and  as  if 
he  would  have  said:  "I  am  weary  of  this  paradeful  non-' 
sense.  I  'd  rather  stand  a  siege,  storm  a  battery,  or  charge 
a  whole  army,  than  encounter  this  again." 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  107 


CHAPTER  VI. 

IN  1815  I  was  placed  under  the  charge  of  an  English 
lady  of  deep  piety  and  superior  education.  Her 
institution  was  in  full  view  of  the  President's  house — 
only  a  few  squares  from  it.  There  were  no  regular 
streets  at  this  time  in  this  city  of  magnificent  distances 
except  Pennsylvania  Avenue.  They  were  laid  out,  it  is 
true,  but  not  built  up.  The  school -house  stood  on  a 
slight  eminence  near  the  Potomac,  commanding  a  fine 
view  of  this  noble  river  for  a  considerable  distance. 
Unconfined  by  brick  houses,  we  had  a  glorious  breathing 
space,  over  which  swept  the  sweet  morning  zephyrs, 
whispering  through  the  foliage  of  magnificent  trees;  and 
the  evening  breeze  from  the  Potomac  fanned  our  glowing 
cheeks  as  we  raced  over  the  lawn,  stretching  almost  to 
the  water's  edge,  or  sat  on  the  doorstep  watching  the 
soft  rosy  clouds  at  day's  decline. 

Miss  Taylor,  our  preceptress,  was  a  dignified  woman, 
eminently  fitted  for  the  charge  of  young  girls ;  but  she 
had  a  younger  sister,  who  at  times  assumed  an  authority 
over  us  which  caused  much  dissatisfaction.  Miss  Char- 
lotte Taylor  was  loved  and  implicitly  obeyed ;  Miss  Julia, 
the  sister,  was  feared,  disliked,  and  often  disobeyed,  with 
a  hearty  good.  will. 

Miss  Taylor's  father  was. an  Englishman;  his  first  wife 
died  in  England,  leaving  an  only  child,  a  daughter,  who 
inherited  a  small  property  from  her  mother;  and,  being 
blessed  with  kind  and  wealthy  relatives  on  the  mother's 


io8  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

side,  the  father  thought  it  not  amiss  to  leave  her  with 
them,  and  come  over  to  America  to  improve  his  own 
fortune. 

Here  he  married,  and  after  some  years  was  left  a 
widower  with  three  children — a  daughter  and  two  sons. 
A  few  more  years,  and  the  father  died,  leaving  the  chil- 
dred  in  a  state  of  destitute  orphanage.  And  now  the 
excellent  Miss  Charlotte  felt  it  a  duty  to  forsake  a  luxu- 
rious English  home,  made  pleasant  by  the  dearest  of 
relatives,  and  come  over  to  America,  to  take  -charge  of 
the  three  children,  whom  she  loved  and  cared  for  as  an 
elder  sister  should. 

The  two  boys  entered  the  United  States  service — one 
the  navy,  the  other  the  army.  Miss  Charlotte  and  her 
sister  came  to  Washington,  at  the  instance  of  friends,  to 
open  a  school,  which  was  for  some  years  the  very  best  in 
the  place,  the  pupils  being  instructed  carefully  in  all  the 
requisites  of  a  liberal  education.  Miss  Charlotte's  thor- 
ough attainments  in  literature,  her  accomplishments,  com- 
bined with  elegant  manners  and  superior  tact  in  commu- 
nicating knowledge,  rendered  her  a  model  teacher. 

I  can  not  contemplate  the  devotion  of  this  heroic 
woman  to  her  brothers  and  sister  without  exclaiming, 
"A  noble -hearted,  high-souled  action  and  unwavering 
purpose  lead  to  righteousness."  Such,  in  woman,  far 
exceeds  the  proudest  achievements  of  man.  Weakness 
and  shrinking  delicacy,  so  characteristic  of  the  sex,  are 
not  the  groundwork  of  heroic  feminine  action.  Man  has 
shrunk  and  paled  in  the  hour  of  peril,  and  drawn  back 
from  anticipated  danger,  when  woman  has  borne  the 
burden  without  a  murmur  and  with  silent  resignation. 
Thus  the  weak  have  triumphed  over  the  strong.  Many 
an  unwritten  life,  lustrous  with  the  grandeur  of  woman's 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  109 

noble  deeds,  will  be  found  among  the  records  of  heaven. 
Heroism  may  exist  in  all  its  strength  in  the  most  delicate 
constitution,  and  it  attains  its  greatest  power  and  glory  in 
large  and  glowing  hearts.  Such  a  woman  was  Miss  Tay- 
lor. She  endured  privations,  labored  day  and  night,  made 
sacrifices  of  an  extraordinary  nature,  and  finally  died, — 
most  probably  a  martyr  to  her  sisterly  devotion. 

The  younger  sister  was  one  of  the  most  unlovely  of 
women.  Fretful,  proud,  and  impatient,  with  a  temper  at 
variance  with  every  kindly  feeling,  and  a  mind  perverted 
by  vanity  and  selfishness.  Fostered  by  the  overweening 
indulgence  of  injudicious  parents  in  early  life,  she  was  the 
torment  of  all  around  her,  especially  of  her  sister,  whose 
good  sense  and  amiability  taught  her  that  it  was  best 
to  submit  where  she  could  not  correct,  and  to  leave  open 
the  safety-valve  of  passion,  that  there  might  not  be  an 
explosion. 

Some  of  the  most  pleasant  reminiscences  of  this  school 
are  connected  with  my  excellent  and  lovely  young  friend, 
Eliza  Lane,  three  years  my  junior,  and  yet  my  intimate 
companion.  And  now,  as  my  thoughts  slowly  unravel 
themselves  from  that  class  of  memories  in  which  she  is 
involved,  I  see  her  beautiful  head  appearing  like  a  glori- 
ous vision,  covered  with  a  profusion  of  auburn  hair  parted 
in  rippling  waves  from  a  clear  and  lofty  forehead.  I  look 
into  deep  and  truthful  eyes,  and  upon  her  fair  face,, 
warmed  with  the  flushes  of  a  tender  heart,  and  my  mind 
wanders  to  those  joyous,  happy  days  when  Time  flew  so 
rapidly  that  his  glittering  pinions  reflected  the  golden 
flood  of  morning,  the  azure  of  noon,  and  the  glory  of 
sunset,  seemingly,  without  an  interval. 

Indelibly  impressed  upon  my  mind  are  our  rambles 
along  the  banks  of  the  river,  and  our  pleasant  trysting- 


no  JULIA  A,  TEVIS. 

spots  near  a  little  rivulet,  where  violets  grew  in  abundance 
under  the  shade  of  some  dwarf  magnolias,  the  lotus  fra- 
grance of  whose  milk  white  blo.ssoms  embalmed  our 
bouquets,  reminding  us  of  those  delicious  climes  we  so 
loved  to  read  and  talk  about.  By  the  kindness  of  Miss 
Taylor,  Eliza  was  permitted  to  spend  many  of  her  Sat- 
urday afternoons  and  half  holidays  with  me  in  my  own 
home,  where  she  was  very  much  loved.  My  father  and 
mother  took  great  delight  in  my  "young  David."  She 
was  a  ray  of  sunshine  wherever  she  went. 

She  returned  to  her  father's,  in  Pennsylvania,  before  I 
left  Washington:  and  from  that  time  until  1824  I  heard 
nothing  of  her.  What  was  my  astonishment  and  delight 
to  find  her  in  Shelbyville;  thus  strangely  did  we  float 
together  in  life  after  a  separation  of  years.  She  was  per- 
manently settled  here  in  the  midst  of  a  widely  extended 
circle  of  relatives  and  friends,  and  here  again  we  re- 
newed our  loving  and  congenial  intercourse. 

But  to  resume  my  narrative.  We  were  permitted, 
while  at  school,  to  enter  occasionally  into  society,  always 
under  suitable  protection ;  not  as  young  ladies,  but  school- 
girls, to  profit  by  what  we  saw  and  heard.  My  first 
and  only  public  ball  was  the  inauguration  fete  of  Presi- 
dent Monroe.  Eliza  and  I,  under  the  escort  of  my 
father,  and  with  my  aunt  for  a  cliaperone,  were  present 
at  this  august  assembly.  The  impression  made  was 
that  of  an  ostentatious  display  of  wealth  and  splendor, 
little  in  accordance  with  the  republican  simplicity  which 
should  constitute  the  dignity  of  a  nation  so  utterly  re- 
jecting high  sounding  titles  and  oriental  magnificence. 
The  barbaric  splendor  of  gold  and  jewels,  glittering 
and  dazzling  through  this  whole  exhibition,  made  us 
almost  imagine  that  we  had  been  rubbing  Aladdin's 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  in 

lamp.  Visions  of  beauty  flitted  before  our  eyes,  and 
fascinated  our  young  hearts ;  clouds  of  lace  and  India 
muslin,  in  whose  folds  glittered  the  diamond  and  the 
ruby,  danced  up  and  down  through  this  mysterious 
dream-land. 

Mrs.  Madison  was  there,  in  the  meridian  of  life.  She 
had  been  brought  up  a  Quakeress,  and  never  lost  the 
simplicity  of  her  early  tastes,  though  she  improved  the 
style  of  her  dress  by  chaste  and  appropriate  ornaments. 
She  wore  that  night  a  black  velvet  robe  with  an  exten- 
sive, train,  a  handsome  turban  of  light  material,  Avith  a 
snowy  plume  that  rested  on  her  shoulder.  A  delicate 
tiara  of  pearls  adorned  her  brow,  which,  with  earrings 
and  bracelets,  completed  her  costume.  Her  almost  tiny 
husband  appeared  in  a  suit  of  plain  black.  He  was 
grave  and  dignified,  and  was  not  the  least  of  the  even- 
ing's attractions. 

The  Spanish  Minister,  at  that  time,  was  remarkable 
as  being  the  representative  of  the  most  contemptible 
Government  of  Europe.  He  was  covered  with  stars  and 
garters,  gold  lace  and  diamonds,  looking  for  all  the 
world,  with  his  withered  face,  like  a  mummy  done  up 
in  gold.  His  two  daughters,  fairer  than  Spanish  girls 
usually  are,  with  their  lustrous  black  eyes  and  raven 
tresses,  were  real  beauties.  One  of  them,  the  Mar- 
chioness de  Heredia,  was  married  by  proxy  in  Philadel- 
phia, her  husband  being  in  Spain  at  the  time.  The  father 
hastened  the  marriage  that  the  Marquis,  his  son-in-law, 
might  help  bear  the  expenses  of  their  establishment 
in  Washington. 

I  was  particularly  impressed  with  the  simplicity  that 
marked  the  toilet  of  the  young  girls  of  the  European 
aristocracy.  Here  England,  France,  Spain,  Portugal, 


ii2  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

Russia,  and,  indeed,  every  important  country  of  Europe 
was  represented.  The  graceful  girl,  with  her  sunny  curls 
and  face  radiant  with  the  reflections  of  an  innocent 
heart;  the  noble  and  the  gifted  of  early  manhood,  with 
the  middle-aged  and  the  old,  were  here  mingled  in 
one  indiscriminate,  republican  mass.  It  was  a  gorgeous 
ball-room;  lights  flashed  from  brilliant  chandeliers;  silks 
rustled,  plumes  waved,  and  jewelled  embroideries  shone 
upon  Genoa  velvets.  Courtly  congratulations  fell  from 
every  lip;  not  only  to  the  President,  whose  star  was  in 
the  ascendant,  but  to  the  one  who  was  quietly  retiring  to 
private  life,  after  having  honorably  fulfilled  his  mission  as 
the  executive  of  a  great  nation  for  eight  years;  and  that, 
too,  during  one  of  the  stormiest  periods  of  this  great 
republic.  Wit  sparkled,  and  the  laughter  of  merry  voices 
rang  through  the  saloons,  while  dancing  feet  kept  time 
to  the  tones  of  magic  music ;  and  yet  I  learned  there 
one  serious  lesson,  that  sank  deep  into  my  heart — a  glit- 
tering exterior  is  not  always  an  exponent  of  nobility 
and  refinement. 

A  lady  was  pointed  out  to  me,  dressed  in  crimson 
velvet  embroidered  in  seed  pearls  half  a  yard  in  depth; 
a  diamond  necklace  glittered  on  her  painted  throat; 
gems  of  priceless  value  adorned  her  fat  fingers,  and  costly 
jewels  encircled  her  wrists.  "See,"  said  one;  "that 
woman  wears  the  wealth  of  a  kingdom  about  her  un- 
comely form;  she  is  the  second  wife  of  a  Swedish  noble- 
man, who  married  the  rich  widow  of  a  soap-boiler,  to 
mend  his  broken  fortunes."  His  aristocratic  daughters, 
at  the  other  end  of  the  room,  dressed  in  pure  white, 
wearing  no  costly  ornaments,  were  models  of  grace  and 
elegance.  These  Swedish  maidens,  their  queenly  heads 
adorned  with  a  profusion  of  blonde  curls,  with  eyes  of 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  113 

the  deepest  blue  sparkling  with  vivacity  and  intelligence, 
were  beautiful;  and  all  eyes  followed  them  as  they 
floated  like  snow-wreaths  through  the  mazy  dance. 

The  question  occurred,  Can  wealth  ensure  respect  or 
fix  the  mark  of  aristocracy?  This  ci-devant  plebeian, 
though  covered  with  jewels  and  bloated  with  pride, 
showed  that  her  position  in  high  life  was  accidental. 
True,  she  had  unlocked  the  entrance  to  a  baronial  resi- 
dence, and  entered  its  lordly  halls,  but  only  to  become 
more  ridiculous,  by  assuming  a  position  which  she  could 
not  sustain.  The  true  nobility  of  intelligence  and  moral 
worth  needs  not  the  aid  of  v  foreign  ornament,  it  will 
find  its  level — Mount  Olympus  can  not  keep  it  down. 
From  that  hour  I  determined  that  I  would  seek  the 
wealth  of  mind,  and  strive  for  that  real  worth  which 
perisheth  not. 

"Howe'er  it  be,  it  seems  to  me 
'Tis  only  noble  to  be  good." 

Miss  Taylor  was  sincerely  pious,  firm  and  uncompro- 
mising in  her  religious  duties,  and  with  her  we  all 
attended  the  ministry  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Hawley,  an  evan- 
gelical preacher  of  the  deepest  piety,  and  for  more  than 
forty  years  the  pastor  of  a  congregation  that  worshiped 
in  the  beautiful  little  Episcopal  Church  of  St.  John,  near 
the  President's  house.  We  enjoyed  the  peculiar  privi- 
lege of  being  well  instructed  in  the  sacred  truths  of  the 
Bible,  and  regularly  catechized  at  the  close  of  each  week 
in  the  doctrines  of  the  Church. 

That  a  person  may  be  a  member  of  the  Church  with- 
out possessing  even  the  elementary  knowledge  of  re- 
ligion, or  being  at  all  imbued  with  its  holy  principles, 
was  eminently  proved  by  the  contrast  between  these  two 
sisters.  Miss  Julia  was  a  regular  communicant,  and 


ii4  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

admitted  to  all  the  privileges  of  Church  membership  that 
her  sister  enjoyed,  but  hers  was  the  profession  without  the 
possession.  Miss  Charlotte's  piety  like 

"A  beautiful  rainbow, 
All  woven  of  light, 
Had  not  in  its  tissue 
One  shadow  of  night ;" 

while  her  sister,  though  possesing  a  highly  intellectual 
and  cultivated  taste,  clever,  in  the  English  acceptation  of 
the  term,  but  not  wise  enough  to  forbear  the  exhibition 
of  her  powers,  was  so  entirely  self-centered  and  decided, 
so  divested  of  all  feeling  for  others,  as  to  counteract  her 
loveliness  of  face  and  culture  of  mind.  Had  I  been 
a  disciple  of  Pythagoras,  I  should  have  certainly  believed 
that  she  must  have  been  a  vicious  cat  transformed  into 
a  woman.  Her  iron  rule  would  have  been  intolerable, 
had  it  not  been  for  the  outgushing  tenderness  of  her  sis- 
ter, ever  ready  to  grant  even  more  than  was  asked. 

Many  things  occur  in  a  school-girl's  life  which  serve 
to  relieve  the  monotony  of  its  every-day  routine.  Sat- 
urday, the  usual  day  for  mischief,  was  always  rife  with 
amusement.  I  was  awakened  one  lovely  morning,  long 
after  sunrise,  by  the  chattering  of  busy  tongues. 

"She  must  have  her  ears  bored,  and  I  can  do  it," 
said  one,  "just  as  well  as  the  silversmith." 

"Oh,  no!"  replied  a  pale,  quiet  little  girl,  who  was 
lying  in  a  low  bed,  around  which  several  were  gathered; 
"'twill  hurt  too  bad." 

"Pooh,  nonsense,  child!  suppose  it  does  hurt;  you 
must  have  your  ears  pierced;  every  body  wears  earrings." 
"Well,  but  mamma  did  not  tell  me  I  must,  and  I 
have  got  none." 

"No  matter,"  chimed   in   a   laughing  voice;    "your 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  115 

mamma  will  be  glad  when  it  is  done;  it  will  save  her  the 
trouble  of  doing  it." 

"Well,  but  Mary,  let  me  ask  Miss  Taylor  first." 

"No  you  shan't,  you  little  goose,  for  Miss  Julia  will 
be  sure  to  refuse;  so  now  be  quiet,  and  I  will  lend  you 
my  nice  little  ear-bobs  until  you  get  a  pair  of  your  own." 

The  timid,  half  reluctant  child  at  last  consented,  and 
expressed  much  delight  when  the  operation  was  over  and 
the  rings  put  in,  just  in  time  for  the  breakfast-bell.  I 
witnessed  the  operation,  but  declined  assisting  for  fear  of 
giving  pain,  though  I  have  often  regretted  that  I  had  not 
the  moral  courage  to  prevent  it,  as  the  consequences 
were  so  dreadful.  The  tender  flesh  being  pierced  with  a 
brass  pin,  produced  erysipelas,  which  terminated  in  St. 
Vitus's  dance,  and  the  poor  girl  was  a  sufferer  the 
remainder  of  her  life,  at  intervals. 

How  many  disasters  of  the  same  kind  have  arisen 
from  causes  as  slight!  I  took  an  item  in  my  memory, 
and  many  years  afterwards  brought  it  into  practical  con- 
sideration, by  punishing  one  of  my  own  pupils,  who 
would  have  performed  the  same  operation  upon  a  willing 
companion.  There  is  not  a  more  sensible  truth  than  the 
one  expressed  in  the  childish  verse — 

"Satan  finds  some  mischief  still 
For  idle  hands  to  do." 

Children  are  always  happier  when  usefully  employed; 
and  change  of  employment  is  sufficient  recreation,  and 
gives  all  the  relaxation  necessary  during  school  hours. 
Their  amusements,  even,  should  tend  to  improvement 
mentally  or  physically.  Not  only  in  the  study-room,  but 
on  the  play-ground,  may  the  Scripture  truth  be  well 
applied,  ' '  Whatsoever  thy  hand  findeth  to  do,  do  it 
with  thy  might."  That  sleepy,  dawdling  attitude,  which 


n6  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

girls  are  sometimes  allowed  to  assume,  is  the  result  of 
dreamy  indolence  or  stupidity.  It  affords  neither  health- 
ful recreation  nor  profitable  relaxation,  but  opens  the 
door  for  the  entrance  of  evil  thoughts,  and  is  really 
calculated  to  destroy  correct  principles. 

The  pure,  unalloyed  joys  of  early  life  should  be  min- 
gled with  those  light  and  active  pleasures,  so  peculiarly 
the  evidence  of  health  and  good  moral  training.  The 
dewy  freshness  of  my  own  girlhood,  ofttimes  stealing 
upon  my  recollection,  tempts  me  to  wish  I  were  young 
again — existence  then  was  such  a  continual  festival;  but 
the  thought  is  as  evanescent  as  the  shadow  on  the  wall, 
and  I  am  grateful  that,  as  the  world  relaxes  its  grasp  and 
enables  my  soul  to  plume  her  wings  for  a  higher  sphere, 
I  strive 

"Nightly  to  pitch  my  moving  tent 
A  day's  march  nearer  home." 

Yet,  I  deem  it  a  blessing  to  have  been  able  to  garner 
up  the  costly  and  countless  treasures  of  those  happy 
hours,  and,  as  the  day  of  life  darkens  upon  me,  these 
shine  like  stars  amidst  the  gloom,  to  cheer  and  console 
with  the  sweet  assurance  that  our  Father  in  Heaven,  who 
has  dotted  this  desert  world  with  so  many  beautiful  oases, 
will  never  leave  nor  forsake  those  who  love  and  trust 
him.  God's  love  flows  like  a  clear  stream  through  a 
troublous  world,  washing  away  its  impurities,  remov- 
ing the  corruptions  of  the  human  heart,  and  softening 
life's  perplexities. 

Miss  Taylor's  school  was  broken  up  by  the  marriage 
of  Miss  Julia  to  an  officer  of  the  United  States  Army, 
who  settled  with  his  bride  at  Detroit.  Miss  Charlotte 
formed  a  part  of  their  family  for  a  while,  and  thence,  a 
few  years  after,  returned  to  her  English  home. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  117 


CHAPTER  VII. 

I  REMAINED  at  home  a  few  months  under  my  mother's 
care,  that  I  might  become  acquainted  with  some  of 
those  household  duties,  so  practical  and  necessary  in 
woman's  life,  and  then  entered  the  school  of  Mrs.  Stone, 
an  educated  and  highly  accomplished  English  woman,  of 
well-deserved  reputation  as  a  teacher.  She  had  enjoyed 
peculiar  advantages  in  her  island  home,  and  afterwards 
spent  two  years  in  Paris,  where  she  acquired  a  thorough 
knowledge  of  the  French  language,  which  she  spoke 
fluently. 

Mrs.  Stone  was  an  amiable,  benevolent  woman,  of 
easy,  affable,  and  graceful  manners.  Her  pupils  were 
endeared  to  her  by  a  thousand  little  delicate  attentions 
and  unexpected  favors.  Her  residence  on  Pennsylvania 
Avenue  occupied  a  position  so  very  conspicuous  upon 
this  great  thoroughfare  as  to  oblige  me  to  pass  through 
the  most  thronged  and  busiest  part  of  the  city;  thus  my 
parents  thought  proper  to  board  me  in  the  institution. 
Three  younger  sisters  were  placed  there  also,  but  under 
my  special  charge;  thus  obviating  the  objection  of  send- 
ing them  at  so  early  an  age  from  under  the  paternal 
roof.  I  found  time,  not  only  to  attend  to  my  own  duties 
as  a  student,  but  to  give  them  every  requisite  attention, 
and,  besides,  to  aid  them  in  preparing  their  own  lessons. 
My  daily  recitations,  four  or  five  in  number,  were  always 
well  prepared,  for  I  could  not  bear  inferiority  in  my 
class,  and,  intensely  anxious  to  excel  in  every  thing 


n8  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

I  undertook,  I  placed  my  standard  above  mediocrity. 
Dancing  lessons,  during  the  Winter,  were  regularly  given 
by  a  master,  who  came  once  a  week  to  the  school. 
French,  Music,  and  Drawing  were  also  considered  indis- 
pensable. We  took  three  lessons  a  week  in  Music — an 
hour  each;  the  same  amount  of  time  was  devoted  to 
Drawing.  We  had  a  French  governess,  who  chatted 
French  incessantly,  and  heard  us  conjugate  French  verbs ; 
while  our  Drawing-teacher,  who  was  also  a  good  French 
scholar,  corrected  our  translations.  Mademoiselle  did  not 
understand  English  well  enough. 

Thus  we  were  kept  fully  occupied  by  our  school 
duties,  in  addition  to  which  I  not  only  made  and  kept  in 
order  my  own  clothes,  but  those  of  my  sisters  while  they 
were  with  me.  I  remember  to  have  had  but  one  dress 
made  by  a  mantua-maker  until  after  I  was  married ;  and 
after  leaving  school  generally  made  my  mother's.  I  make 
these  statements  for  the  benefit  of  the  rising  generation, 
and  to  show  girls  that  "where  there  's  a  will  there  's  a 
way,"  and  "though  Alps  on  Alps  arise"  before  the  ease- 
loving  and  indolent,  yet  these  impossibilities  vanish  before 
persevering  industry. 

Mrs.  Stone  possessed  much  tact  in  communicating 
what  she  knew,  and  was  noted  for  her  flashes  of  wit  and 
dazzling  repartee.  She  spoke  with  great  volubility,  and 
all  her  conversation  with  her  pupils  tended  to  their  im- 
provement. Universally  kind,  she  was  much  beloved  by 
all  who  knew  her.  She  had  undoubtedly  been  hand- 
some, and  retained  still  much  of  the  bloom  of  youth. 

During  the  sitting  of  Congress  the  older  girls  were 
taken  by  Mrs.  Stone  once  a  week  to  hear  the  celebrated 
speakers,  or  listen  to  debates  on  interesting  subjects. 
There  were  "giants  in  those  days,"  and  among  the  most 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  119 

conspicuous  of  the  whole  bright  galaxy  of  intelligences 
that  illuminated  our  legislative  halls  appeared  Henry 
Clay,  Speaker  of  the  House  of  Representatives;  John  C. 
Calhoun,  John  Randolph,  Sheffey,  and  others,  who  had 
been  leaders  of  the  war  party,  aspiring  now  to  a  place  in 
the  councils  of  the  nation.  Mr.  Calhoun's  features  im- 
pressed me  as  being  remarkably  fine,  and,  though  some- 
what stern  in  repose,  were  yet  capable  of  being  molded 
to  any  meaning  it  was  his  will  to  express.  He  always 
commanded  the  attention  of  the  House  as  a  character  of 
that  lofty  cast  which  seems  to  rise  above  the  ordinary 
wants  and  weaknesses  of  humanity. 

John  Randolph  was  another  of  the  great  speakers  who 
made  a  deep  impression  upon  my  mind.  One  of  the 
queerest  and  most  wiry-looking  men  I  ever  saw,  he  was 
unmistakably  a  great  man.  His  genius  had  angels'  wings, 
but  fed  on  the  bitterest  extracts  from  Mount  Hymettus. 
Always  on  the  side  of  the  minority,  difficulty  seemed  to 
possess  a  charm  for  him,  because  affording  an  opportunity 
for  displaying  the  energies  of  his  soul.  His  voice  was 
weak  and  squeaking — thin,  and  sometimes  harsh;  'yet  his 
eloquence  was  irresistible.  He  wielded  his  weapons  of 
wit  and  ridicule  with  conclusive  power. 

An  authentic  anecdote  is  related  of  his  having  effectu- 
ally laid  upon  the  table  a  bill,  introduced  after  the  adoption 
of  the  Federal  Constitution,  to  have  the  seats  of  each  dele- 
gation wrought  with  some  device  descriptive  of  the  staples 
of  their  several  States.  Mr.  Randolph  arose,  after  listening 
to  a  long  debate  on  the  subject,  and  suggested  the  more 
elegant  and  impressive  arrangement  of  a  marble  statue 
for  each  State.  "North  Carolina,  for  instance,"  he  said, 
pointing  his  long  bony  finger,  and  shaking  it  in  the  most 
significant  manner;  "let  her  fill  a  conspicuous  niche, 


120  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

leaning  against  a  persimmon-tree,  with  an  opossum  at  her 
feet,  and  a  sweet  potato  in  her  hand."  It  brought  down 
the  house — and  the  plan,  too. 

In  the  Congress  of  the  United  States,  at  that  time, 
no  man  occupied  a  more  enviable  position  than  did  our 
own  Henry  Clay. 

Mr.  Clay  could,  by  the  magic  of  his  amazing  will 
and  his  irresistible  self-assertion,  lift  a  great  audience  to 
dizzy  heights  of  enthusiasm,  and  stir  unwonted  throbbings 
in  the  heart. 

When  in  his  magnificent  moments  men  saw  him  agi- 
tate the  Senate  into  fury,  and  then,  as  born  to  command, 
play  with  the  whirlwind  and  direct  the  storm,  they  felt 
in  their  inmost  souls  that  he  had  Nature's  patent  for  his 
oratorical  tyranny. 

Possessing  that  liquid  melody  of  tone  so  fascinating 
by  its  variety  of  inflection  and  its  ever-changing  natural- 
ness, Henry  Clay  could  hold  his  audience  enchained  for 
hours  without  wearying  them,  and  in  a  great  speech 
move  on  through  the  whole  oratorical  voyage  as  grace- 
fully as  a  noble  ship,  whose  snowy  sails  flutter  and  quiver 
in  storm  and  breeze  by  turns,  but  always  majestic  and 
swan-like  in  its  movements.  Mr.  Clay's  gestures  natu- 
rally aided  his  eloquence.  His  pantomime  was  the  per- 
fect painting  of  his  thoughts,  and  each  discriminating 
gesture  told  its  own  story. 

A  man  who  was  somewhat  deaf,  and  could  not  get 
near  enough  to  Mr.  Clay  in  one  of  his  finest  efforts, 
remarked,  "I  did  not  hear  a  word  he  said;  but,  bless 
me!  did  n't  he  make  his  motions?" 

Mr.  Clay  was  never  declamatory,  even  in  his  most 
fervid  moments.  When  wrought  up  to  the  highest  pitch 
of  enthusiasm,  his  modulations  and  intonations,  diversi- 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  121 

fied  and  distinct,  were  all  subservient  to  that  principle  of 
melody  so  permanently  stamped  upon  every  thing  he 
uttered,  —  even  like  the  multitudinous  laughter  of  the 
waves,  mingling  with  the  crashing  breakers  and  sobbing 
billows,  but  all  subordinate  to  and  finally  lost  in  the  great 
ocean  diapason,  the  majestic  music  of  the  sea. 

Somewhat  in  the  same  way,  and  with  the  same  un- 
broken velocity,  spoke  Wm.  Pinckney,  of  Maryland,  who 
among  the  contemporaries  of  Clay  stood  next  in  fame 
for  eloquence. 

Mr.  Pinckney  was  a  brilliant  legal  speaker,  and  held 
the  office  of  Attorney-general  of  the  United  States  under 
Mr.  Madison  when  war  was  declared.  He,  as  well  as 
Mr.  Clay,  was  an  ardent  advocate  for  the  war.  Mr. 
Pinckney  was  pre-eminent  as  a  lawyer;  his  legal  attain- 
ments were  extensive  and  profound,  and  being  enthusi- 
astically devoted  to  his  profession,  he  was  ambitious  of 
its  triumphs.  His  oratory,  though  at  times  too  declama- 
tory and  rhetorical,  was  rich,  copious,  and  fluent  in  a 
high  degree,  adorned  with  the  finest  imagery,  drawn  from 
classic  lore  and  a  vivid  fancy;  the  effect  of  which  was 
increased  by  the  manliness  of  his  figure,  a  sonorous  and 
flexible  voice,  and  the  animation  and  gracefulness  of  his 
delivery.  By  his  application  to  the  subject  of  elocution 
and  the  English  language  he  had  added  to  his  natural 
facility  and  fluency  a  copiousness  of  elegant  diction, 
which  graced  even  his  conversation,  and  imparted  new 
strength  and  beauty  to  his  forensic  style. 

In  the  first  moments  of  his  speech,  it  is  said,  he  did 
not  win,  but  rather  repulsed;  gathering  headway,  how- 
ever, he  gained  more  and  more,  till  he  took  the  helm  of 
your  mind,  and  led  you  hither  and  thither  as  the  frenzy 
and  the  mood  swept  over  him.  Mr.  Pinckney  deservedly 


122  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

occupied  a  high  position  among  the  American  orators 
of  that  memorable  period,  and  yet  he  was  not  too  proud 
to  be  vain. 

I  saw  him  in  1818,  soon  after  his  last  return  from 
Europe;  and  as  his  name  had  always  been  associated  in 
my  mind  with  something  above  the  ordinary  standard  of 
men,  I  was  not  a  little  surprised  to  see  him  so  magnifi- 
cently dressed  as  seemingly  to  ignore  that  republican 
simplicity  of  which  our  great  men  boast  so  much.  A 
splendid  blue  cloth  cloak  of  ample  dimensions,  lined  with 
rich  crimson  velvet,  artistically  draped  his  fine  form  and 
gave  dignity  to  his  appearance,  conveying  the  impression 
that  he  had  been  accustomed  to  kingly  courts  rather  than 
to  democratic  councils ;  yet  there  was  nothing  out  of  keep- 
ing with  his  position.  There  was  a  good  taste,  which  re- 
minded one  of  the  beautiful  tropes  and  metaphors  abound- 
ing in  his  oratory — embellishing,  not  detracting. 

When  we  observe  the  wonderfully  complicated  nature 
of  man,  the  noble  dominion  of  mind  subject  to  his  con- 
trol, the  vast  achievements  of  his  art  and  genius,  and  the 
intelligence  which  places  him  but  little  lower  than  the 
angels,  what  a  mingled  picture  of  light  and  shade  does 
he  present! 

"How  poor,  how  rich,  how  abject,  how  august, 
How  complicate,  how  wonderful  is  man ! 
How  passing  wonder  He  who  made  him  such!" 

Often,  when  listening  to  the  eloquence  of  these  great 
legislators,  I  have  thought,  ' '  How  these  patriots  love 
their  country!"  Some  did,  I  doubt  not;  but  I  have  long 
since  learned  to  distrust  that  ambitions  political  creed, 
openly  avowed  by  many,  of  which  expediency  is  the  Al- 
pha and  Omega.  Human  interest  will  always  mingle 
with  human  motives. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  123 

I  saw  Mr.  Calhoun  once  in  after-life.  His  ample  brow 
was  pale  with  anxious  thought,  deep  lines  of  care  were 
chiseled  on  his  face ;  but  there  was  still  the  lightning 
glance  in  his  undimmed  eye  which  told  of  the  bold, 
intrepid  spirit  that  had  given  him  a  lofty  rank  among 
the  great  men  of  his  age. 

While  at  Mrs.  Stone's  I  was  associated  with  many 
intelligent,  interesting  girls;  but  the  one  I  best  remem- 
ber, and  of  whom  I  still  have  a  sweet  and  touching  recol- 
lection, was  Laura  Wirt,  a  daughter  of  the  eminent 
Attorney -general.  I  never  met  with  a  girl  of  so  uni- 
versal talents  —  excelling  in  every  accomplishment,  and 
that  without  effort  or  pretense. 

Miss  Wirt  was  about  seventeen  years  old,  of  very 
lovely  person,  delicate  and  fragile;  her  complexion  pale, 
without  any  tincture  of  sallowness;  abundant  glossy  hair, 
regular  features,  and  eyes  of  rather  a  sad  expression,  but 
possessing  an  indescribable  luster.  Her  manner  was  nei- 
ther forward  nor  bashful;  but  affectionate,  without  famil- 
iarity, and  quiet,  without  being  dull.  She  possessed 
many  qualities  which  rendered  her  an  agreeable  compan- 
ion and  an  interesting  classmate.  I  speak  particularly 
of  her,  because  I  regarded  her  then,  as  I  do  now,  a  model 
pupil,  as  well  as  a  model  daughter.  She  neglected  none 
of  the  privileges  afforded  her,  but  improved  every  oppor- 
tunity to  the  greatest  advantage,  and  though  an  extern 
she  spent  every  leisure  moment  in  the  study -room, 
drawing,  translating  French  or  Latin,  consulting  maps  or 
reading  history,  or  in  some  way  preparing  herself  for 
future  usefulness. 

Mr.  Wirt  had  a  large  family  of  daughters,  all  younger 
than  Laura,  and  the  mother  being  in  feeble  health,  the  care 
of  the  children  devolved  principally  on  the  eldest.  I  saw 


124  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

Mrs.  Wirt  but  once  in  her  own  home.  She  was  reclining 
upon  a  sofa,  giving  the  impression  of  extreme  languor 
from  ill  health;  her  face  as  white,  her  features  as  passion- 
less, as  if  carved  in  Parian  marble.  Yet  she  was  said  to 
be  a  woman  of  great  strength  of  character,  though  sweet, 
patient,  and  amiable — enduring  like  a  Christian  the  severe 
discipline  of  early  disappointments,  domestic  bereave- 
ments, and  constant  ill  health;  and  coming  out  like  re- 
fined gold  from  her  fiery  trials. 

Laura  had  an  object  of  more  than  common  interest  in 
striving  to  secure  knowledge.  She  intended  that  her 
acquirements  and  accomplishments  should  be  put  to  a 
practical  use.  Her  father's  salary,  as  Attorney -general 
of  the  United  States,  was  scarcely  sufficient  to  support 
his  family  and  give  that  prestige  necessary  to  their  posi- 
tion in  society,  and  this  excellent  daughter  accepted  an 
appointment  as  clerk  for  her  father,  with  a  salary  of  a 
thousand  dollars.  The  duties  of  this  office  she  faithfully 
and  satisfactorily  performed,  besides  being  much  with  her 
mother  and  sisters,  and  entering  occasionally  into  the 
beau  monde,  where  she  commanded  the  homage  and  admi- 
ration due  to  real  worth  and  superior  elegance.  A  model 
pupil  at  school,  a  model  daughter  at  home,  a  model 
woman  in  society,  her  hand  was  sought  in  marriage  by 
some  of  the  best  and  wisest  men  of  the  day;  and  she 
finally  made  a  happy  choice,  but  did  not  live  many 
years  after. 

To  die  young  is  often  the  destiny  of  very  superior,  I 
might  almost  say  of  precocious,  talents.  We  should 
regard  long  life  as  a  blessing  when  God  bestows  it;  yet 
we  should  not  consider  it  less  a  privilege  to  die  early  if 
our  Heavenly  Father  so  wills  it.  And  what  matters  it  if 
no  monumental  stone  be  erected  to  such  a  memory!  the 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  125 

fame  imparted  by  the  lofty  marble  is  lost  in  the  general 
wreck  of  matter,  and  those  who  would  claim  a  tear  and  a 
memory  must  write  their  names  on  living  hearts. 

Mrs.  Stone  had  some  wayward  pupils,  who  eschewed 
books  and  loved  idleness.  I  have  since  had  my  own 
experience  with  such,  and  am  prepared  to  exclaim,  with 
sympathetic  emotion,  Woe  betide  the  teacher  who  has  to 
break  in  these  vivacious  specimens  of  humanity !  They 
seem  to  set  their  minds  at  work  to  baffle  every  effort  to 
reduce  them  to  order.  This  arises,  not  from  malice,  but 
from  want  of  early  parental  discipline.  Often  affectionate 
and  placable,  though  impatient  and  passionate,  yet  I  can 
truly  say  there  is  greater  satisfaction  in  subduing  one  such 
sinner,  and  more  joy  felt,  than  over  the  ninety  and  nine 
who  need  no  such  correction.  Kind,  indulgent,  and  for- 
giving, Mrs.  Stone  was  no  disciplinarian;  hence  scenes 
of  confusion  frequently  occurred  among  the  boarding 
pupils  never  witnessed  under  the  firm  but  gentle  sway  of 
Miss  Taylor,  whose  dignified  presence  was  alone  sufficient 
to  still  the  troubled  waters.  Miss  Taylor  often  mingled 
with  us  out  of  school  hours;  Mrs.  Stone  seldom  saw  us 
except  at  recitations  and  meals,  save  by  special  request, 
though  we  were  never  left  without  the  supervision  of 
Mademoiselle  or  some  under-governess,  who  was  as  little 
regarded  as  one  of  the  girls  would  have  been. 

The  habit  before  mentioned  as  fatal  to  good  order, 
that  of  allowing  girls  to  spend  all  their  leisure  time  in 
their  bedrooms,  obtained  here  to  a  considerable  extent. 
Six  or  eight  would  sometimes  collect  in  one  room  for 
gossip,  indulging  in  light,  vain,  and  foolish,  if  not  sinful, 
conversation.  One  may  well  imagine  what  scenes  of  riot 
and  confusion  were  likely  to  occur  among  a  number  of 
idle  young  girls,  divested  of  all  restraint  from  their  supe- 

9 


i26  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

riors.  As  long  as  the  laughing  and  chattering  in  the 
several  apartments  during  recreation  hours  was  kept  within 
such  bounds  as  not  to  disturb  Mrs.  Stone,  no  notice  was 
taken  of  the  noise ;  and  if  ever  the  uproar  attracted  atten- 
tion, then  one  or  two  of  the  younger  children  were 
brought  forward  as  the  delinquents  by  their  older  school- 
fellows, to  suffer  the  reproof  or  punishment  due,  in  gen- 
eral, to  themselves.  Feeling  the  responsibility  devolving 
upon  me  in  reference  to  my  sisters,  I  spent  my  intervals 
of  relaxation  in  the  large  and,  for  the  time  being,  almost 
deserted  school-room  with  them.  We  had  no  recreation 
grounds;  not  a  blade  of  grass  in  the  yard,  which  was 
crowded  with  out -buildings — thus  compelling  us  to  seek 
amusement  within  doors. 

I  am  reminded  in  this  place  of  a  queer  girl,  one  of  my 
room-mates,  whose  peculiarities,  though  sometimes  a 
source  of  much  annoyance,  often  gave  infinite  diversion 
by  her  drollery.  Born  to  be  a  trial  of  patience  to  all 
concerned  with  or  about  her — giddy,  restless,  mischievous, 
and  unrestrained  in  spirits  —  continually  getting  into 
scrapes — often  reproved,  but  never  any  better;  her  round, 
good-natured,  merry  face,  and  large,  bright,  laughing 
eyes,  and  eternally  apologetic  "Well,  I  won't  do  so 
again,"  usually  made  her  peace  with  all.  Once,  striving 
to  draw  me  from  my  quiet  work  in  the  school-room,  she 
came  screaming,  at  the  top  of  her  voice:  "Oh,  do  come, 
Julia !  they  Ve  got  your  beautiful  quilt  spread  out  on  the 
floor,  playing  jacks;  and  some  of  them  are  sitting  right 
in  the  middle  of  your  bed,  cutting  papers  all  over  it — 
and,  such  a  mess!" 

I  followed  her  quietly  up-stairs,  and  what  a  scene  pre- 
sented itself  to  my  astonished  vision!  One  girl  was 
mounted  on  a  chair  before  the  looking-glass,  half  a  dozen 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  127 

were  seated  on  a  handsome  patchwork  quilt,  one  of  my 
mother's  best — each  girl  having  to  furnish  her  own  bed, 
bedding,  towels,  etc. — quantities  of  marbles  were  bouncing 
from  the  corners  and  center,  while  the  girls  were  literally 
grabbing  out  the  cotton  wadding  from  my  nice  quilt,  in 
which  they  had  picked  great  holes.  The  little  ones  were 
rolling  over  the  uncarpeted  floor,  and  one  was  seated  in 
the  middle  of  a  low  bed  with  her  shoes  on,  while  another 
was  unpacking  her  trunk;  and  Mary  Wilson,  the  mes- 
senger, had  left  hers  entirely  emptied  of  its  odds  and 
ends.  My  presence  quelled  the  storm  in  one  sense,  but 
raised  a  tempest  in  another.  I  was  disposed  to  be  fas- 
tidiously neat.  I  boxed  the  ears  of  one,  shook  two  or 
three  others,  and  contrived  in  a  few  minutes  to  push  all 
the  transgressors  out  at  the  door,  at  the  same  time  lock- 
ing it  and  putting  the  key  in  my  pocket. 

Such  scenes  were  not  uncommon.  One  bright  moon- 
light night,  being  awakened  out  of  a  sound  sleep  by  some- 
thing falling  heavily  on  the  floor,  I  perceived  a  figure 
dressed  in  white  bending  intently  over  something  in  the 
middle  of  the  room.  Half  unconsciously,  with  beating 
heart,  I  watched  it  gradually  rise,  until  it  seemed  in  the 
mellow  moonlight  to  reach  the  very  ceiling,  and  then  sink 
slowly  in  one  corner  of  the  room.  I  expected  it  to  van- 
ish— it  did  not.  Being  now  fully  restored  to  conscious- 
ness, I  arose  softly,  walked  toward  the  object,  and  found 
it  to  be  Mary  Wilson,  with  a  sheet  wrapped  around  her, 
engaged  in  pairing  her  stockings  and  tying  them  together. 
"Asleep,"  thought  I.  "How  terrible  to  have  a  sleep- 
walker in  my  room!"  Just  then  she  suddenly  turned, 
and,  seeing  me,  broke  into  a  merry  laugh,  exclaiming: 

' '  Well,  you  see,  Julia,  I  've  lost  so  many  stockings 
that  yesterday  I  had  to  wear  one  white  and  one  gray 


i28  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

one;  and  't  is  so  much  trouble  to  keep  the  best  foot 
foremost  all  the  time  that  I  thought,  to-night,  when 
the  moon's  lamp  burned  so  beautifully,  that  I  would 
take  the  opportunity  to  hunt  up  the  odd  ones  and 
pair  them." 

"You  silly  girl!  what  will  Mrs.  Stone  say  to  this 
night-prowling  of  yours?  running  the  risk  too,  as  you  do, 
of  scaring  some  of  the  children  half  to  death?" 

"She'll  never  know  it,  unless  you  tell  her,"  she 
replied;  "and  you,  who  are  so  full  of  energy,  ought  to 
commend  me  for  mine.  See;  there  lie  three  pairs  and  a 
dozen  odd  ones,  with  half  a  foot  each — and  so  much  day- 
light saved." 

The  clock  struck  two;  she  had  been  up  since  eleven. 

"If  ydu  do  not  get  in  bed  instantly,  I  '11  report  you 
to-morrow,"  said  I. 

"I  do  n't  believe  you  will,"  was  the  reply;  "besides, 
I  '11  be  too  busy  all  the  morning  to  be  punished;  and  in 
the  evening  we  have  to  dance,  and  you  will  want  me  for 
a  partner,  with  my  clean  stockings  and  red  shoes." 

Mary  was  incorrigible  in  many  things,  and  delighted 
in  nothing  so  much  as  in  provoking  and  annoying  her 
teachers.  French  and  Spanish  she  could  not,  or  would 
not,  learn  to  pronounce;  and  while  she  rendered  Mad- 
emoiselle frantic,  was  as  cool  as  an  iceberg  herself. 
Monsieur  Henri,  who  occasionally  heard  us  read  French, 
sometimes  arose  and  finished  his  lesson  by  throwing  the 
book  at  her  head,  because  she  persisted  in  pronouncing 
"fieutatre"  "patater;"  and  a  "jott garcon"  was  a  "jolly 
garkon." 

Proper  attention  was  given  in  this  establishment  to 
the  externals  of  religion.  Every  body  went  to  church 
twice  on  the  Sabbath;  it  would  have  been  ungenteel  not 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  129 

to  do  so.  I  am  not  aware  that  any  of  our  teachers  ever 
manifested  decided  impressions  of  piety;  and  we  were 
only  saved  from  utter  indifference  on  that  subject  by 
these  formalities,  through  which  we  enjoyed  the  indirect 
influences  of  religion.  I  do  not  think  there  was  an  indi- 
vidual among  the  teachers  or  pupils  who  would  not  have 
thought  it  being  "righteous  overmuch"  to  do  more  than 
attend  church  regularly  twice  on  the  Sabbath. 


130  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

POLITICAL  contests  of  great  bitterness  marked  the 
period  from  1815  to  1820.  Hot  disputes  between 
Federalists  and  Democrats  ended  in  a  number  of  duels. 
One  I  distinctly  recollect,  as  sending  a  thrill  of  horror 
throughout  the  land, — so  sad  in  its  results,  and  so  strong 
a  proof  of  the  hatred  engendered  by  political  strife,  sun- 
dering the  ties  of  affection,  and  trailing  in  blood  the 
banner  of  kindred  love. 

Colonel  Armstead  F.  Mason  and  Colonel  John  M'Carty 
were  first  cousins — each  the  prominent  man  of  his  party. 
Mason,  however,  was  held  in  high  estimation,  and  re- 
spected by  both  parties;  kind  and  forgiving,  he  tried  to 
avoid  a  difficulty  with  M'Carty,  who  pursued  him  with  a 
malignity  almost  without  a  parallel.  Mason  had  thwarted 
his  purposes — at  least  M'Carty  fancied  so ;  he  had  crossed 
his  path  at  the  bar  of  the  courts,  and  circumvented  his 
political  designs. 

The  characters  of  the  two  men  were  as  antagonistic 
as  their  politics.  Mason,  though  a  great  statesman,  was 
not  an  ambitious  one;  yet  he  hesitated  not  to  stand  in 
the  breach,  to  stem  the  torrent  of  ungodly  politicians, 
whose  artful  designs  were  ready  to  engulf  our  new-formed 
government.  Mason  was  brave,  high-minded,  and  full  of 
noble  impulses;  M'Carty,  stern,  cold,  and  revengeful. 
Mason  did  every  thing  it  was  thought  an  honorable  man 
could  do  to  avoid  a  collision;  but,  alas!  not  all  that  a 
Christian  should  have  done,  or  he  had  not  fallen  a  victim 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  131 

to  that  false  code  of  honor  which  is  a  disgrace  to  the 
civilized  world,  nor  violated  the  law  of  God  rather  than 
break  through  the  cold  conventionality  of  society.  He 
should  not  have  forgotten  his  paramount  obligations  to 
his  lovely  young  wife,  whose  very  existence  seemed 
bound  up  in  his,  and  left  his  only  child  an  orphan. 

M'Carty  gave  provocation  after  provocation  for  a 
quarrel.  Mason  was  ready  to  explain,  though  he  was 
no  coward ;  but  his  opponent  was  determined  on  a  meet- 
ing, and  refused  all  explanation.  Thus  the  long  evaded 
crisis  came.  The  vindictive  M'Carty  compelled  him,  at 
last,  to  turn  at  bay — his  hatred  surrounded  him  like  a 
wall  of  fire.  Among  the  modes  of  fighting  proposed 
by  M'Carty  was  that  each  should  sit  upon  a  keg  of 
powder,  near  enough  to  apply  the  torch  for  the  des- 
truction of  the  other.  Finally  they  fought  with  rifles 
at  Bladensburg — the  Congressional  duel  ground — only  a 
few  paces  apart.  Mason  fell  mortally  wounded;  M'Carty 
fled  before  the  last  struggle  was  over,  while  the  death 
damp  lay  upon  the  noble  brow  of  his  murdered  victim, 
whose  intellectual  superiority  he  envied,  and  had  blighted 
in  its  bloom,  leaving  an  example  of  one  of  the  most 
awful  duels  ever  traced  by  ambition  upon  its  bloody 
pages.  The  survivor  went  forth  with  the  mark  of  Cain 
upon  his  brow,  and  with  the  awful  denunciation  ringing 
in  his  ears,  "Thy  brother's  blood  crieth  to  me  from 
the  ground." 

Duelling — genius,  virtue,  freedom,  and  truth  demand 
its  banishment  from  the  world.  That  fearful  tragedy  has 
never  been  forgotten — men  cease  not  to  remember  it. 
The  torch  of  ambition,  with  its  fitful  glare,  was  extin- 
guished in  the  blood  of  a  relative.  Thus  was  the  light 
of  a  happy  home  forever  darkened.  But  yesterday  the 


132  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

freshness  of  young  life,  unwithered  by  the  touch  of  time, 
rested  upon  husband  and  wife.  The  golden  sun  of  the 
morning  illuminated  their  household,  and  the  incense  of 
loving  hearts  floated  through  all  its  apartments;  before 
night  the  affectionate  father,  the  fond  husband,  the  de- 
voted patriot,  closed  his  brilliant  career  in  a  bloody  death, 
having  reached  only  his  thirty-second  year. 

Well  do  I  remember  the  dusky  twilight  hour  of  that 
day;  the  raindrops  fell  upon  the  pavement,  chilling  the 
heart  with  their  cold  patter,  as  if  in  sympathy  with  the 
horrid  deed  of  the  day.  My  face  was  pressed  closely 
against  the  window-pane  watching  the  hasty  footsteps  of 
my  father,  who  said,  in  a  melancholy  tone,  as  he  entered 
the  room,  "It  is  all  over,"  and  called  our  attention  to 
the  rattling  wheels  of  the  carriage  which  bore  away  the 
reckless  demagogue  from  the  disastrous  scene. 

I  listened  eagerly  to  the  rehearsal  of  all  the  circum- 
stances, and  shuddered  as  I  wept  for  Mason's  desolate 
family.  Ah!  thought  I,  the  murderer  may  escape  man's 
justice,  but  the  eye  of  God  he  can  not  escape.  Pale 
faces  will  look  upon  him  from  behind  the  dark  curtain  of 
the  night  with  sad  reproaches  for  the  ruin  of  a  wrecked 
household.  He  had  wasted  God's  best  gifts  and  sep- 
arated himself  from  all  that  ennobles  life,  and  had  nothing 
to  look  forward  to  but  a  fearful  judgment  to  come,  the 
black  shadow  of  remorse  following  him  wherever  he  went. 
If  the  lot  of  a  common  murderer  is  terrible,  what  must 
be  that  of  a  wretch  loaded  with  the  accumulated  guilt  of 
a  murdered  family? 

It  was  this  same  Colonel  Mason  who  said  of  ' '  Father 
Littlejohn, "  a  man  of  deep,  unaffected  piety,  combined 
with  a  cultivated  intellect  and  industrial  talent,  "I  have 
known  the  Rev.  Mr.  Littlejohn  to  finish  a  saddle,  preside 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  133 

on  the  bench  as  a  magistrate,  preach  a  funeral  sermon, 
baptize  a  child,  and  perform  the  marriage  ceremony,  all 
on  the  same  day."  After  I  commenced  teaching  in 
Shelbyville  I  became  acquainted  with  this  eminent  apostle 
of  Jesus  Christ,  when  his  snowy  locks  and  bent  form 
indicated  great  age;  and  from  him  learned  the  finale 
of  the  Mason  and  M'Carty  duel. 

Mrs.  Mason,  though  heartbroken,  tried  to  live  on 
for  the  sake  of  her  child.  Supported  by  the  consolations 
of  religion,  the  heart  may  still  throb  on — on — on,  when 
it  has  ceased  to  live  for  this  world.  She  passed  through 
joyless  days  and  sorrowful  nights,  with  her  fair  head 
bowed  in  meekness  to  the  will  of  God,  but  often  sigh- 
ing, "Father,  take  home  thy  child;"  and  sweetly  smiled 
when,  at  last,  the  summons  came.  The  son  lived  to  emu- 
late his  father's  noble  deeds,  a  comfort  to  his  mother 
while  she  lived;  but  was  killed  in  the  early  bloom  of 
manhood,  while  fighting  at  the  head  of  his  regiment  in 
the  Mexican  war. 

Father  Littlejohn,  to  whom  I  have  just  alluded,  was  a 
man  of  many  sorrows,  but,  like  St.  Paul,  he  suffered 
willingly  for  the  excellency  of  the  knowledge  of  Christ 
Jesus  our  Lord;  and  like  the  same  great  apostle,  all  his 
trophies,  all  his  spoils  were  hung  upon  the  cross  of 
Christ.  The  blessings  of  many  years  does  not  often 
crown  a  human  brow  without  leaving  thereon  the  impress 
of  suffering.  The  good  old  man  brought  me  his  grand- 
daughter to  educate — a  sweet,  dove-eyed  little  girl,  the 
sole  blossom  left  upon  the  household  tree.  A  kind 
tone  of  voice  and  a  gentleness  of  manner  were  the 
characteristics  of  Catharine  Littlejohn.  She  was  like 
the  delicious  mignonette,  lifting  up  its  sweet  blossoms 
laden  with  fragrance  to  be  poured  like  incense  upon  the 


i34  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

heart  of  the  dear  old  grandfather.  Her  looks,  like  the 
cheerful  smile  of  Spring,  sent  a  glow  of  warmth  upon 
the  Winter  of  his  age.  She  was  beautiful  in  her  girlish 
simplicity,  quiet  and  dreamy  when  alone,  gay  and  joyous 
with  her  young  companions,  but  sly  and  silent  among 
strangers,  though  there  were  no  awkwardnesses  that  were 
not  as  good  as  graces.  She  married  young,  died  early, 
and  went  home  to  join  the  family  throng. 

I  can  not  close  without  a  word  more  about  Father 
Littlejohn.  His  name  must  ever  live  in  the  annals  of 
early  Methodism.  He  was  accounted  faithful  among  the 
pioneers.  "The  Churches  knew  and  loved  and  gave 
him  praise;" 

"For  with  untiring,  apostolic  zeal, 
He  watered  and  refreshed  them ;  his  sacred 
Office  was  his  joy — it  seemed  the  well-spring 
Of  his  life — and  all  its  sources  gushing 
Forth  in  holy  fervor,  bore  him  onward, 
Fitting  him  for  heaven." 

The  good  man's  labors  cease,  but  memory  retouches 
the  lines  that  marked  its  varied  path — it  has  a  thousand 
tongues  to  hold  companionship  with  such  a  guide. 

Washington  City  was  at  that  time  more  under  the 
influence  of  moral  and  religious  principle  than  it  has 
ever  been  since.  Every  respectable  family  had  a  pew  in 
some  church,  and  there  was  almost  as  much  of  that 
Puritan  feeling  found  in  high  places  as  was  generally  dis- 
seminated throughout  New  England.  There  was  preach- 
ing at  the  Capitol  every  Sabbath,  with  a  large  and  decent 
congregation  in  attendance.  Few  loiterers  were  seen 
oiVthe  public  streets  or  at  the  tavern-doors;  convention- 
ality required  a  Sabbath  stillness  around  every  mansion. 
This  was,  doubtless,  owing  to  the  unwearied  faithfulness 
of  a  few  evangelical  ministers,  whose  holy  walk  and  godly 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  135 

conversation  almost  worked  miracles  among  the  rich  and 
the  great;  while  they  brought  comfort  and  blessings  to 
the  lowly  and  humble. 

Among  these  good  men  stood  out,  in  bold  relief, 
the  pastor  of  St.  Paul's  Church,  who  for  so  many  years 
"prophesied  in  Israel;"  and  the  reformation  affected  by 
his  labors  among  the  gay,  fashionable,  thoughtless,  and 
extravagant  members  of  his  congregation  attested  him 
to  be,  indeed,  the  messenger  of  God,  by  whom  he 
was  highly  honored.  There  were  others,  as  I  have  said, 
equally  honored,  but  I  knew  him  best,  being  a  regular 
attendant  upon  his  ministry.  The  memory  of  the  just  is 
blessed;  and  individuals,  as  well  as  nations,  are  exalted 
only  in  proportion  to  their  righteousness.  The  names 
and  the  virtues  of  the  holy  men  who  have,  from  time  to 
time,  been  appointed  to  enlighten  and  reclaim  the  world 
have  shed  a  luster  and  diffused  an  influence  upon  man- 
kind which  shall  expand  and  brighten  -to  the  end  of 
time.  Not  so  those  who  thrust  themselves,  uncalled,  into 
the  temple,  and,  Judas  like,  betray  the  Master  whom 
they  pretend  to  serve. 

I  shall  never  forget  the  sensation  of  disgust  produced 
throughout  the  whole  community  of  Washington  by  the 
levity  of  a  celebrated  preacher  who,  having  for  ten  years 
officiated  in  one  of  the  most  prominent  churches  in 

B ,  without  spot  or  blemish  upon  his  clerical  char-. 

acter,  was  now  en  route,  by  a  special  call,  to  fill  the  presi- 
dential chair  of  a  newly-founded  university  in  the  West. 
It  was  at  the  commencement  of  the  gay  season  of  1818. 
The  city  was  thronged  with  visitors  and  strangers.  The 

Rev.  Mr.  H thought  it  not  amiss  to  appear  at  a 

Saturday  evening  soiree  at  the  French  Minister's,  and 
dance  until  the  small  hours  of  the  Sabbath  morning, 


136  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

captivating  the  beau  monde  with  his  easy,  seductive  ele- 
gance of  manners,  and  then  fulfill  his  appointment  to 
preach  in  the  Representative  Hall  at  eleven  o'clock.  His 
congregation  was  large,  but  distinguished  by  the  presence 
of  many  of  the  gay  revellers  of  the  evening  before. 

Is  there  not  something  fearfully  wrong  in  what  we  call 
our  highly  civilized  state  of  society,  when  it  can  tolerate 
such  departure  from  principle?  True,  this  man  was 
brilliant,  witty,  elegant,  accomplished,  and  gifted;  but 
fearfully  deficient  in  all  the  higher  Christian  virtues  and 
nobler  motives.  He  possessed  that  fire  and  energy, 
combined  with  novelty  and  elegance  of  ideas,  and  that 
loftiness  of  expression,  which  displayed  an  intellect  at 
once  refined  and  gigantic.  The  institution  in  the  West, 
over  which  he  presided  for  a  few  years,  suffered  from  his 
bad  example ;  and  so  pernicious  was  his  influence,  that, 
like  the  deadly  shade  of  the  Upas,  it  withered,  if  it  did 
not  destroy,  every  virtue  that  came  within  its  circle. 
Finally,  after  a  few  meteoric  flashes,  the  brilliant  star  of 
his  unfulfilled  genius  sank  into  a  rayless  night. 

The  name  of  Madame  la  Comtesse  de  Neuville,  wife 
of  the  resident  French  Minister,  is  embalmed  with  some 
of  the  most  pleasant  recollections  of  my  later  school 
days.  She  was  the  intimate  friend  of  Mrs.  Stone,  with 
whom  she  had  been  associated  in  Paris  at  school.  When 
Madame  de  Neuville  came  to  Washington  she  seemed 
eager  to  renew  their  friendship  upon  the  old  terms  of 
intimacy,  notwithstanding  the  different  spheres  in  which 
they  moved.  Monsieur  and  Madame  de  Neuville,  al- 
though exponents  of  the  highest  European  nobility,  pos- 
sessed much  of  that  republican  simplicity  of  which  we 
Americans  boast  so  much  and  show  so  little.  In  our 
aspirations,  as  a  people,  after  wealth  and  position,  we 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  137 

seem  to  ignore  the  very  spirit  of  our  institutions  and  the 
equality  proclaimed  in  our  Declaration  of  Independence, 
where  no  patent  of  nobility  is  granted,  and  none  recog- 
nized, except  that  to  which  is  appended  the  great  seal  of, 
moral  and  intellectual  superiority. 

At  the  door  of  one  of  the  plainest  brick  buildings  on 
Pennsylvania  Avenue,  Madame  de  Neuville's  splendid 
carriage  was  frequently  seen  standing,  being  sent  to  con- 
vey Mrs.  Stone  to  a  dining  or  an  evening  party.  Every- 
body delighted  to  accept  her  invitations,  and  attend  her 
gay  balls  and  magnificent  dinner  parties ;  and  we  school- 
girls felt  as  much  flattered  by  the  attention  paid  our  be- 
loved teacher  as  if  it  had  been  ourselves.  The  fact  was, 
we  all  loved  Madame  de  Neuville  for  her  plain,  unosten- 
tatious manners,  and  what  we  deemed  her  condescension 
in  noticing  us.  She  had  no  children  in  her  own  house, 
no  merry  voices  and  pattering  feet  to  greet  her  at  home ; 
hence  she  took  particular  pleasure  in  the  pupils  of  her 
friend,  and  delighted  in  bringing  down  her  own  thoughts 
and  feelings  to  their  comprehension.  Her  love  for  the 
young  and  her  interest  in  their  society  kept  her  happy. 

We  were  the  frequent  recipients  of  her  favors — flow- 
ers, delicious  fruits,  assorted  French  candies,  etc.,  etc. — 
all  very  welcome  and  charming  to  schoolgirls.  The 
greatest  delight  of  the  older  girls  was  to  see  Mrs.  Stone 
dressed  for  one  of  Madame's  gay  parties,  and  admire  her 
petite  figure,  covered  with  rich  laces  and  jewels;  then 
await  her  return  and  listen  to  her  descriptions  of  all  she 
had  seen  in  the  gay  world.  Madame  de  Neuville  pos- 
sessed that  true  nobility  of  spirit  which  evinces  itself  in 
a  cheerful  and  general  politeness;  that  amenity  and  want 
of  pretension  so  fascinating  in  high  life.  Her  ordinary 
language  was  the  purest  and  most  graceful  French;  but 


138  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

she  spoke  English  with  ease  and  with  considerable  accu- 
racy for  a  foreigner. 

Monsieur  de  Neuville  we  seldom  saw,  except  in  their 
daily  walks,  in  which  he  invariably  carried  an  umbrella 
and  she  a  shawl,  no  matter  what  the  condition  of  the 
weather.  Their  splendid  equipage,  with  footmen  and 
outriders,  was  often  seen  rolling  through  the  streets, 
containing  no  one  but  a  secretary,  Charge  d'Affaires,  or, 
perhaps,  my  lady's  maid  on  a  shopping  excursion ;  while 
the  minister  and  his  wife  were  taking  long  walks  over  the 
commons  or  on  the  banks  of  the  river.  They  had  a  tall, 
handsome  footman,  who  looked  so  elegant  in  his  gold- 
laced  livery,  that  mysterious  stories  were  whispered  about 
among  the  ladies  of  his  being  a  nobleman  in  disguise, 
and  the  poor  fellow  was  persecuted  with  billets-doux 
and  constant  espionage,  to  escape  which  he  finally  aban- 
doned his  position  and  took  refuge  in  his  own  country. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  139 


CHAPTER  IX. 

I  HAVE  said,  that  I  was  fond  of  reading,  but  what  I 
read  previous  to  the  age  of  seventeen  had  not  been 
well  digested ;  it  was  rather  a  species  of  cramming,  which 
a  maturer  judgment  taught  me  to  reject,  and  I  now  began 
to  discriminate  between  healthy  literature  and  the  hot- 
bed productions  with  which  the  press  teemed  then  as 
now:  yet  I  did  not  eschew  all  fiction,  and  often,  when 
reading  an  interesting  novel,  to  which  daylight  could  not 
be  devoted,  the  moon  lent  her  friendly  aid. 

My  imprudence  in  thus  straining  my  eyes,  though  it 
did  not  render  me  very  nearsighted,  prevented  my  being 
able  to  see  things  distinctly  at  a  great  distance  common 
to  good  eyes.  'Tis  a  dangerous  experiment  to  read  by 
moonlight.  My  naturally  strong  gray  eyes  suffered  less 
injury  than  weaker  ones  might  have  sustained. 

I  had  traveled  much  into  the  dangerous  realms  of 
fancy,  and  frequently  went  beyond  my  depth ;  but  not 
altogether  without  advantage.  From  the  character  of  the 
innumerable  heroines  presented  to  my  mind  I  formed  an 
ideal  of  excellence;  and  many  grains  of  wheat  gathered 
from  bushels  of  chaff  were  carefully  stored  in  the  treas- 
ure-heuse  of  memory. 

As  I  advanced  in  years  and  stepped  upon  the  thresh- 
old of  womanhood,  my  mirror  plainly  told  me  that, 
though  comely  and  symmetrical,  I  was  not  to  depend 
upon  my  "face  for  my  fortune;"  or,  in  other  words,  I 
could  never  expect  to  be  a  "belle"  on  account  of  my 


140  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

beauty.  I  decided,  therefore,  that  my  attractions  must 
be  of  the  mind. 

I  read  history,  travels,  biography,  and  general  litera^ 
ture;  learned  much  of  the  known  world  through  the  eyes 
of  others ;  acquired  a  knowledge  of  Scotland  and  England 
through  the  writings  of  the  "Great  Unknown,"  which  I 
read  as  they  were  issued  from  the  press.  It  was  a  ban- 
quet of  sweet  things  to  my  intellectual  taste,  never  cloy- 
ing. As  far  as  I  can  judge,  I  retained  the  good  without 
any  of  the  evil.  Certainly  the  reading  of  Scott's  histor- 
ical novels  tended  to  purify  my  taste  for  fiction,  and 
turned  my  attention  more  immediately  to  history. 

At  this  critical  period  I  began  to  acquire  a  taste  for 
solid  reading  and  useful  information.  A  new  world  was 
open  to  me.  I  did  not,  however,  lay  down  any  plan  for 
mental  improvement,  but  tried  to  store  my  mind  with 
the  most  useful  knowledge.  I  have  found  reason,  again 
and  again,  to  be  thankful  that  my  thoughts  were  turned 
at  this  period  into  a  channel  which  saved  me  from  the 
desire  of  entering  too  early  into  society,  and  checked  a 
career  that  might  have  been  marked  with  the  merest 
frivolities — resulting  from  a  naturally  gay  disposition  and 
exuberant  spirits. 

I  spent  one  of  my  Summer  vacations  in  Mrs.  Stone's 
house,  that  I  might  profit  by  the  instruction  and  conver- 
sation of  our  French  governess,  who  alone,  of  all  the 
teachers,  remained  during  the  holidays.  We  walked,, 
talked,  and  read  together;  and  as  Mademoiselle  was  my 
sole  companion,  and  spoke  English  too  imperfectly  to 
make  it  a  pleasure  to  converse  with  her  in  that  language, 
I  was  compelled  to  use  the  French,  though  she  was  as 
anxious  to  learn  English  as  I  was  to  learn  her  language. 
Her  blunders  were  my  principal  source  of  amusement. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  141 

We  were  one  morning  very  much  interrupted  by  the 
noise  of  a  crying  child,  who  was  neglected  by  its  mother, 
the  cook.  "Ecoutez,"  cried  Mademoiselle;  "'t  is  vil- 
lanous;  dis  woman  no  care  if  the  leetle  child  die;  she  be 
bad  more  than  the  cow  —  when  the  leetle  cow  cry  the 
me"re  no  forget  to  mind  him."  She  once  said  to  me, 
"The  English  grammaire  is  noble,  magnifique  for  every 
ting  but  de  conversatione ;  me  no  never  pronounce  de 
langage,  but  me  have  learned  toute  la  grammaire  by 
hell."  I  started  with  astonishment.  She  looked  amazed, 
saw  that  she  had  committed  some  terrible  blunder,  but 
knew  not  how  to  explain ;  finally,  after  many  ineffectual 
attempts,  I  found  she  meant,  "by  heart."  The  want  of 
analogy  in  the  English  language  renders  its  pronunciation 
the  most  difficult  in  the  world  to  foreigners. 

During  the  vacation  alluded  to  I  wrote  and  translated 
a  great  deal,  which  was  of  infinite  use  to  me,  in  after 
life,  as  a  teacher.  A  part  of  my  time  was  spent  in 
sketching,  drawing,  and  painting — making  only  an  occa- 
sional visit  home.  Mademoiselle  stayed  but  a  few  months 
with  us ;  and  then  returned  to  La  Belle  France,  disgusted 
with  the  rudeness  of  American  girls  and  with  the  En- 
glish language. 

Miss  Hallet,  a  tall,  dignified  woman  from  one  of  the 
Spanish  islands,  took  her  place.  She  spoke  English, 
French,  and  Spanish  with  equal  fluency;  and  though  cold 
and  reserved  in  her  manners,  I  was  determined  to  make 
myself  agreeable  to  her,  in  consideration  of  the  superior 
advantages  I  might  derive  from  her  conversation.  I  ren- 
dered myself  useful  by  assisting  with  the  little  girls'  les- 
sons, and  in  various  ways  aiding  her  in  her  mental  labors. 
She  became  genial,  yet  retained  her  Spanish  stateliness 
to  the  very  ends  of  her  fingers  and  toes.  "I  like  to  live 

10 


1 42  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

in  America,"  she  said;  "but  I  fear  I  shall  never  become 
accustomed  to  the  rapid  evolutions  of  so  fast  a  people." 
She  told  me  that  she  landed  in  New  York  on  the  Sabbath, 
while  the  bells  were  ringing  for  morning  service,  and 
imagined,  from  their  rapid  walking,  that  the  people  were 
hastening  to  a  fire.  With  her  I  learned  to  talk  French, 
which  she  preferred  to  her  native  language,  the  Spanish. 

I  have  had  frequent  occasions,  during  a  long  career 
as  a  teacher,  to  rejoice  that  such  facilities  for  the  thorough 
acquisition  of  the  language  were  thrown  within  my  reach, 
and  that  I  was  wise  enough  sedulously  to  avail  myself  of 
them.  I  confess  to  an  ambitious  desire  of  becoming 
more  than  a  mere  atom  floating  in  the  sunbeam  of  pros- 
perity. I  coveted  a  distinct  individuality,  yet  it  is  my 
deliberate  opinion  that  I  also  loved  learning  for  its 
own  sake. 

Many  things  occurred  during  my  residence  in  Mrs. 
Stone's  institution  which  might  amuse  and  interest  the 
present  generation  of  pupils,  but  probably  would  not 
tend  to  their  improvement.  I  remained  with  her  until 
I  entered  my  nineteenth  year,  at  which  time  I  left  the 
precincts  of  the  school-room  as  a  pupil,  and  returned  to 
my  dearly  loved  home.  My  studies  were  not,  however, 
abandoned;  some  hours  were  daily  devoted  to  reading, 
some  to  household  duties;  and  I  continued  to  receive 
tri- weekly  lessons  in  French  and  music  from  excellent 
masters  who  came  to  the  house.  I  practiced  much  on 
the  piano  (and,  by  the  by,  copied  nearly  all  the  music  I 
used),  but  performed  with  more  taste  than  execution. 

Ballad  singing  was  much  in  vogue — the  sweet  Irish 
melodies  and  the  touching  songs  of  Burns,  with  occa- 
sional marches,  waltzes,  etc.,  seemed  to  please  the  taste 
of  every  body.  We  invariably  played  and  sang  the  air. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  143 

We  did  not  play  an  accompaniment  and  sing  the  air  at 
the  same  time;  but  when  we  did  sing  we  pronounced 
the  words  distinctly,  and  felt  the  sentiment  expressed. 
We  never  inflicted  tedious  pieces  upon  our  auditors — no 
matter  how  brilliant  they  were  considered  in  our  text- 
books, by  which  we  acquired  a  knowledge  of  fingering 
and  facility  of  execution.  "Auld  Lang  Syne,"  "Roy's 
Wife,"  "Bonnie  Boon,"  "Washington's  March,"  and 
the  "Cottage  Rondo,"  were  sung  and  played  con  amore. 

I  enjoyed  my  stay  at  home — sweet  home — in  the  midst 
of  those  loved  ones,  so  much  the  more  because  hitherto 
I  had  been  but  a  visitor  there. 

To  greet  my  father's  cheerful  face  every  morning — to 
rise  sometimes  before  daylight,  that  I  might  accompany 
him  to  market  (and  we  often  went  two  miles  for  that 
purpose),  where  we  saw  the  busy  world  in  miniature — to 
spend  a  portion  of  each  day  with  my  dear,  kind  mother, 
trying  in  the  mean  time  to  help  her  bear  the  burden  of 
her  domestic  cares,  which  were  not  a  few,  was  a  real  joy  to 
my  heart;  the  very  memory  of  which  is  like  music  to  my 
soul,  touching  a  chord  connected  with  the  fondest  recol- 
lections of  former  years.  Other  memories  bring  but  the 
shadows  of  things  long  since  fled. 

The  first  Winter  I  spent  at  home  was  crowded  with 
so  many  incidents  that  it  seemed  extended  over  a  longer 
time  than  usual.  My  father's  residence  was  near  the 
Capitol;  and  several  members  of  Congress,  with  their 
families,  boarded  with  us,  forming  what  was  familiarly 
called  "a  mess,"  the  family  constituting  a  part  of  it.  This 
afforded  me  an  opportunity  of  becoming  well  acquainted 
with  some  of  the  most  distinguished  statesmen  of  the 
day;  among  whom  were  Henry  Clay,  Judge  Poindexter, 
Dr.  Floyd,  Mr.  Calhoun,  and  others.  One  of  my  most 


144  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

agreeable  friends  was  an  old  gentleman — General  Stevens, 
of  Revolutionary  memory — who  had  taken  part  in  the 
destruction  of  the  tea  in  Boston  Harbor,  and  to  whom  I 
was  ever  a  willing  listener.  When  he  spoke  of  the  Revo- 
lution, he  kindled  a  fire  of  patriotism  in  my  heart  that 
made  me  almost  wish  I  had  lived  in  those  stirring  times. 

I  had  another  old  friend  who  often  discussed  the  poli- 
tics of  the  day  with  us,  while  I  read  to  him  the  news- 
papers and  journals.  This  was  General  R.  J.  Meigs,  who 
had  long  been  a  Government  Agent  among  the  Indians. 
He  had  many  stories  to  tell  of  those  wild  sons  of  the 
forest,  whose  wrongs  and  injuries  bore  heavily  upon  his 
heart;  and  while  he  spoke  of  the  injustice  of  the  whites 
towards  them,  and  the  sad  extremities  to  which  they 
were  driven,  he  taught  me  to  love,  to  pity  and  to  forgive 
them.  His  son,  the  Postmaster-general,  was  a  warm 
friend  of  my  father,  and  kindly  aided  me  afterwards  in 
procuring  an  eligible  situation  as  a  teacher  by  his  letter 
of  recommendation. 

My  gentleman  friends  at  this  time  were  all  old  men, 
who  appeared  to  take  pleasure  in  answering  my  curious 
questions.  I  learned  much  of  my  country,  its  Consti- 
tution and  political  affairs,  from  the  discussions  that  were 
frequently  carried  on  at  the  dinner  table,  to  which  I  was 
ever  an  eager  and  interested  listener;  and  yet,  I  can  not 
say  that  I  did  not  listen  occasionally  to  the  animated  dis- 
cussions of  my  lady  friends  upon  the  color  of  a  ribbon, 
the  cut  of  a  dress,  or  the  fashion  of  a  bonnet. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  members  of  our  family  at 
this  time  was  the  young  and  lovely  wife  of  an  eminent 
Senator,  who  had  distinguished  himself  as  a  judge,  a  gov- 
ernor, and  as  a  legislator  in  the  halls  of  Congress;  and 
who  was  equally  notorious  for  his  separation  from  his 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  145 

first  wife,  who  was  still  living;  and  for  having  killed  his 
friend  and  benefactor  in  a  duel.  This  second  wife,  of 
whom  I  speak,  was  a  girl  of  scarce  seventeen  Summers, 
when  he  wooed  and  married  her.  Strange,  indeed,  that 
those  who  loved  her  most  should  have  been  willing  to* 
crush  the  bud  of  real  affection  in  her  heart,  and  sacrifice 
her  to  the  glitter  of  wealth  and  pride  of  station! 

I  never  can  forget  the  first  evening  she  came  to  our 
house — so  fair,  so  beautiful.  Her  large  blue  eyes,  shaded 
by  deeply-fringed  lashes,  when  raised  to  the  face  of  the 
speaker,  resembled  the  blue  and  cloudless  '  heavens,  lit 
with  the  cold  and  distant  glory  of  the  stars;  and  there 
beamed  a  softened  light  which  penetrated  the  soul  of  the 
beholder.  The  dew  was  yet  upon  the  blossom  of  her 
life,  when  found  by  this  man  of  the  world  nestled  away 
among  the  roses  and  woodbines  of  a  widowed  mother's 
humble  cottage  in  Louisiana.  Young  and  lovely,  the 
damask  of  a  happy  girlhood  still  lingered  on  her  cheek ; 
her  face  was  radiant  as  if  an  angel  had  left  a  kiss  upon  her 
brow.  She  had  loved  and  was  beloved  by  one  every  way 
worthy  of  so  bright  a  jewel.  He  was  poor  (it  was  thus 
she  told  me),  and  they  were  to  have  been  married  as  soon 
as  he  could  get  into  some  business  by  which  he  could 
maintain  herself  and  mother  comfortably.  Entirely  de- 
voted to  each  other,  the  future  presented  to  them  a  para- 
dise on  earth.  They  would  gladly  have  spent  life  to- 
gether in  the  humblest  home — but,  alas!  like  the  serpent 
among  the  flowers  of  Eden,  the  destroyer  came,  and  so 
changed  the  scene,  that  never  did  bud  or  blossom  bloom 
again  in  the  garden  of  their  young  hearts. 

The  timid  girl,  though  long  resisting  the  ambitious 
pleadings  of  her  relatives — for  her  heart  had  no  part  or 
lot  in  the  matter — and  touched  by  the  tender  emotions 


146  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

of  filial  love,  which  prompted  her  to  place  her  mother  in 
an  affluent  home,  yielded  in  an  evil  hour,  dashed  the  cup 
of  happiness  from  her  lips,  and  stepped  into  a  state  of 
existence  which  rendered  her  life  a  burden,  shutting  out 
the  purple  mountains  of  hope  forever  from  her  view. 
She  married;  but  her  silken  robes  and  glittering  jewels 
covered  an  aching  heart,  and  blanched  the  roses  on  her 
cheek;  and  if,  indeed,  angels  camped  around  her,  they 
had  folded  their  wings  in  dismay  and  pity.  The  most 
careless  hearts  would  have  wept  could  they  have  pene- 
trated the  tragedy  of  that  life. 

Her  bridal  trip  was  to  Washington,  and  her  first  en- 
trance into  society  was  in  the  fashionable  world  of  the  cap- 
ital of  this  great  nation.  As  the  wife  of  a  wealthy  United 
States  Senator  she  had  the  privilege,  if  such  it  might  be 
considered,  of  being  surrounded  by  splendor,  and  enjoy- 
ing all  that  could  be  enjoyed  in  high  life.  I  distinctly 
remember  her  appearance  when  dressed  for  a  levee  at 
the  President's.  She  was  enveloped  in  snowy  folds  of 
the  finest  India  muslin;  jewels  glittered  amid  her  wavy 
brown  hair,  and  shone  with  peculiar  beauty  upon  her 
finely  molded  neck  and  arms.  She  looked  the  very  per- 
sonification of  youthful  loveliness,  as  she  lifted  her  timid 
eyes  to  the  face  of  her  haughty  husband,  filled  with  an 
expression  of  exaltation  mingled  with  awe,  melting  into 
that  trustful  submission  which  marks  woman's  sacrificial 
devotion;  and  yet  there  were  plainly  seen,  flitting  across 
her  face,  varied  emotions  which  told  of  an  internal  strug- 
gle to  crowd  back  some  passionate  recollections  that 
would  not  be  still  beneath  all  this  paradeful  splendor. 

Her  husband  was  proud  of  her  beauty,  and  well  he 
might  be;  but  he  only  looked  upon  her  as  reflecting  the 
glory  of  his  own  ambition.  Poor  young  thing!  she 


SIXTY  YEAKS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  147 

sought  my  companionship  and  sympathy,  for  she  was 
very  near  my  own  age,  and  nothing  soothed  her  more 
than  to  pour  into  my  willing  ear  the  tale  her  sorrowful 
disappointment.  So  fleeting  had  been  her  early  dream 
of  love  and  happiness,  that  even  then  she  recalled  it  only 
as  a  glimpse  of  heaven  given  in  a  dream,  and  shuddered 
when  the  "angel  of  memory  rolled  away  the  stone  of 
apathy,"  and  bade  her  dead  dreams  arise. 

Night  after  night  she  was  left  to  weep  alone  in  her 
solitary  chamber,  while  he,  who  had  promised  to  love  and 
cherish  her,  spent  the  waning  hours  at  the  card-table  or 
at  wine-suppers.  She  would  sometimes  send  for  me  to 
come  and  sit  a  few  hours  with  her.  I  learned  to  pity  and 
love  her,  and  never  forget  the  lesson  taught  by  her  sad 
history.  When  we  "choose  our  own  ways"  instead  of 
seeking  God's  direction,  we  fall  into  sadness  and  sorrow, 
which  nothing  earthly  can  remove,  and  are  utterly  crushed 
beneath  the  tread  of  time. 

The  finale  of  this  sad  story  is  woven  into  the  history 
of  many  a  life.  The  Winter  over,  she  returned  to  her 
home,  now  a  stately  mansion  half  hidden  among  magnolia 
blossoms;  but  neither  the  fragrance  of  their  lily  cups, 
nor  the  glancing  wings  of  the  mocking-bird  through  the 
vine-covered  bowers  at  evening,  could  bring  comfort 
to  her  weary  heart.  A  few  short,  bitter  years,  slowly 
marked  by  weary  days  and  sleepless  nights — the  entreat- 
ies of  her  soul  going  up  all  the  while  to  the  source  of 
mercy  and  power,  hopeless,  save  in  the  goodness  of  God, 
she  lingered  on,  until  at  last,  through  infinite  mercy,  her 
disembodied  spirit  was  carried  to  the  throne  of  light. 
She  passed  away,  and  soon  another  wife  trod  those  lofty 
walls — a  proud,  haughty  woman,  who  completely  man- 
aged the  decrepit  and  prematurely  old  man,  who  had 


148  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

killed  with  cold  neglect  the  lamb  he  had  cruelly  taken 
from  the  fold  of  love.  The  victim  had  been  adorned, 
and  fell  a  sacrifice  upon  the  altar  of  ambition. 

The  vivid  impressions  made  upon  my  mind  during 
this  period  resulted  from  the  ever-varying  and  exciting 
scenes  amid  which  I  lived.  Our  new  formed  republic 
had  not  yet  reached  a  dignified  maturity.  The  people 
were  intoxicated  with  the  liberty  they  enjoyed.  The 
great  men  of  the  Revolution,  whose  stern  Puritanism  had 
contributed  to  rear  the  beautiful  temple  of  liberty  upon  a 
respectable  foundation,  did  not  live  long  enough  to  secure 
its  durability;  and  the  noble  warriors,  whose  blood  had 
cemented  the  bond  of  union  between  the  States,  were 
sleeping  their  last  sleep  beneath  the  soil  so  dearly 
purchased. 

The  fluctuating  waves  of  a  revolutionary  war  had 
scarcely  subsided  when  the  tocsin  was  again  sounded, 
and  liberty  struggled  for  three  years  more  to  gain  the 
ascendancy.  This  accomplished,  the  people  were  enjoy- 
ing it,  not  in  quiet  gladness  throughout  the  land;  but, 
true  to  their  Saxon  origin,  the  genius  of  which  is  strong 
and  rapid,  were  pursuing,  with  an  unaccountable  activity, 
avocations  in  business  or  pleasure.  Strangers,  like  the 
locusts  of  Egypt,  were  flocking  to  our  shores;  and 
Washington,  during  the  Winter,  was  filled  with  a  multi- 
tude of  office-seekers  and  foreigners,  who  were  lookers- 
on,  to  see  how  this  experiment  of  republicanism  would 
work  throughout  so  large  an  extent  of  country.  But, 
alas!  the  disease  of  our  race  seems  to  be  stupidity;  and 
the  propensity  of  the  human  mind  is  to  forget  that  no 
superstructure  can  stand,  unless  founded  upon  religion 
and  virtue. 

Our  Congress,  which  ought  to  have  been  a  model  of 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  149 

wisdom,  did  not,  even  in  its  youthful  vigor,  always  show 
the  dignity  expected  in  the  councils  of  a  great  nation. 
Statesmen  of  prestige,  and  of  the  highest  ability,  plunged 
into  an  excess  of  dissipation  that  would  have  disgraced 
heathendom.  Some  of  our  Senators,  it  is  true,  were 
grave  and  reverend,  and  among  our  Representatives  were 
found  men  of  great  integrity  and  supereminent  virtue ; 
but  even  to  the  eye  of  the  uninitiated  many  of  our  legis- 
lators were  utterly  unfit  to  be  intrusted  with  the  impor- 
tant duties  that  devolved  upon  them.  How  often  I  have 
felt  shocked  to  hear  of  the  recklessness  exhibited  by  men 
high  in  power,  and  in  whose  hands  were  placed  the  dear- 
est rights  of  the  people,  suggesting  the  thought,  ' '  If 
such  things  are  done  in  the  green  tree,  what  may  be  ex- 
pected in  the  dry!" 

At  a  dining  party,  upon  one  occasion.  I  heard  a  white- 
haired  old  man  say  to  his  neighbor:  "I  am  a  Senator  from 
North  Carolina,  and  when  I  left  home  I  sold  corn  at 
twelve  and  a  half  cents  a  bushel  to  procure  money  for 
my  contingent  expenses  whilst  in  Washington;  and  last 
night  I  was  fleeced  of  every  dollar  at  the  gambling-table 
by  the  two  honorable  gentlemen  who  sit  opposite  me." 
It  was  said  loud  enough,  and  probably  was  intended,  to 
be  heard  by  his  vis-a-vis;  whereupon  Mr.  C.,  without 
the  slightest  change  of  color,  arose,  and  in  his  blandest 
manner  asked  the  old  gentleman  to  take  a  glass  of  wine 
with  him,  as  oblivious  of  the  past  and  a  pledge  of  future 
friendship.  The  gray -haired  Senator  took  the  offered 
wine,  and,  with  his  face  composed  to  an  expression  much 
resembling  that  of  a  chief  mourner  at  a  funeral,  replied, 
"I  may  forgive,  but  never  forget"  The  two  gentlemen 
replied  by  a  hearty  laugh,  echoed  by  fair  women  and 
grave  men.  Novice  as  I  then  was  in  every  thing  that 


150  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

related  to  political  affairs,  I  felt  troubled  for  our  newly 
formed  government.  The  idea  of  men  legislating  for 
millions  of  people,  after  spending  the  live-long  night  at 
the  gambling -table,  besotted  with  wine  and  strong 
drink — one  shudders  to  think  of  it! 

James  Monroe,  the  fifth  President  of  the  United 
States,  I  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  often.  A  plain, 
unostentatious,  honest  man,  diligent  in  business,  he 
worked  hard  to  secure  the  highest  interest  of  his  coun- 
try, though  not  then  known  to  be  the  great  statesman 
which  time  has  since  proved  him.  Mrs.  Monroe  was  a 
perfect  contrast  to  Mrs.  Madison.  The  latter  was  a 
woman  of  superior  elegance,  devoted  to  society,  and  yet 
possessed  of  a  clear  head  and  an  accurate  judgment.  She 
was  said  to  be  not  only  the  better  but  the  wiser  half  of 
Mr.  Madison;  and  while  she  could  play  with  a  lap-dog 
or  grace  a  dining  party,  or  be  the  cynosure  of  all  eyes  in 
a  ball-room,  she  could  preside  in  council,  write  out  state 
documents,  and  give  the  finishing  touch  to  the  Presi- 
dent's Message. 

Mrs.  Monroe's  domestic  habits  unfitted  her  for  the 
eternal  round  of  receptions  required  in  her  position, 
and  she  very  soon  retired  with  disgust  from  the  artificial 
surroundings  of  her  station,  abolished  the  weekly  levees, 
and  scarcely  appeared,  even  on  "New- Year's  Day,"  to 
receive  the  greetings  of  the  people.  Yet  she  was  ad- 
mired; for,  like  Cornelia,  she  placed  most  value  upon  the 
jewels  of  her  own  household.  A  married  daughter  took 
her  place  in  society,  and  gloried  in  the  prestige  of  the 
Presidential  Mansion. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  151 


CHAPTER  X. 

AMID  the  scenes  of  my  early  girlhood,  so  many  inter- 
esting incidents  crowd  upon  my  memory  that  it  is 
difficult  to  make  a  selection.  Every  spot  in  and  around 
Washington  and  Georgetown  is  connected  with  some 
pleasant  association,  some  tender  recollection.  Our  fam- 
ily circle  was  unbroken,  save  in  the  absence  of  my  elder 
brother.  I  loved  my  mother  tenderly,  and  almost  wor- 
shiped my  father;  was  happy  in  the  very  necessity  de- 
volving upon  me  as  the  elder  sister  of  paying  much  atten- 
tion to  the  younger  children.  Blessed  arrangement  of  a 
kind  Providence,  that  affection  and  solicitude  are  increased 
and  deepened  by  the  helplessness  of  those  who  are  de- 
pendent upon  us!  Dear  little  brothers  and  sisters!  every 
sigh  that  rent  their  hearts  made  my  own  quiver  with 
pain;  so  every  joy  I  shared  with  them  was  rendered 
doubly  dear.  Even  now  my  heart  swells  with  emotion 
when  I  think  of  our  wanderings  in  search  of  wild  flowers 
on  the  borders  of  the  little  stream  which  then  so  sweetly 
murmured  over  its  pebbly  bottom  at  the  foot  of  Capitol 
Hill,  and  of  our  moonlight  walks  in  the  midsummer, 
watching  the  pleasure  boats  as  they  floated  gently  down 
the  river  with  gay  streamers  and  snowy  sails,  and  I  can 
almost  hear  the  sound  of  the  flute  falling  upon  the  en- 
tranced ear. 

There  was  a  little  island  sleeping  on  the  bosom  of  the 
Potomac — an  emerald  of  surpassing  loveliness  in  Spring, 
anxl  of  glowing  beauty  in  Summer.  It  attracted  many 


152  JULIA  A.  TEVIS, 

visitors,  who  were  welcome  through  the  kindness  of  the 
benevolent  owner  —  a  Mr.  Mason,  who,  like  Alcinous, 
made  every  visitor  an  honored  guest.  One  of  his  daugh- 
ters was  a  schoolmate  of  mine  at  Miss  Taylor's,  and  I 
must  confess  I  sometimes  envied  her  the  possession  of 
such  a  home,  and  often,  while  wandering  through  the  in- 
tricate mazes  of  that  luxuriant  spot,  felt  sorry  that  she 
could  not  enjoy  it  as  I  did.  Alas,  poor  girl!  she  was  an 
invalid,  a  subject  for  sympathy;  and  I,  possessing  exu- 
berant health,  should  have  been  very  unwilling  to  ex- 
change places  with  her. 

How  truly  may  it  be  said  that  this  is  a  world  of  com- 
pensation !  Mine  was  comparatively  an  humble  home, 
but  I  had  good  health  and  an  active  mind ;  Miss  Mason's 
was  one  of  luxurious  surroundings,  which  she  could  not 
enjoy  with  her  weak  and  frail  body.  I  knew  of  the 
elegancies  of  that  earthly  paradise,  but  nothing  more, 
save  that  pale  disease  flitted  occasionally  through  the  fam- 
ily mansion  and  somber  clouds  hid  the  bright  sunbeams 
from  the  buds  and  blossoms  of  Hope;  and  that  finally 
this  lovely  island  was  sold  to  a  stranger  from  a  far-off 
country,  who  "was  not  of  us,"  and  then  the  young  peo- 
ple from  Washington  and  Georgetown  sought  another 
spot  for  their  picnics  and  holidays. 

One  may  be  pardoned  for  dwelling  so  long  upon  the 
scenes  of  early  life,  the  impressions  are  so  vivid.  The 
flowers  we  knew  in  childhood  do  indeed  fade;  their  petals 
may  perish,  but  the  fragrance  is  with  us  still.  The  heart 
keeps  every  joy  of  former  years  that  is  worth  preserving, 
and  the  flitting  visions  of  happiness  known  in  this  world 
shall  grow  into  paramount  bliss  in  heaven. 

The  current  of  my  life  flowed  smoothly  until  I  entered 
my  twentieth  year,  —  then  came  a  tide  of  misfortunes 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  153 

which  well  nigh  sank  our  family  into  despair.  Poverty, 
sudden  and  unexpected,  came  by  one  of  those  not  un- 
common catastrophes  expressed  in  these  bitter  words, 
"Taken  for  security  debts."  My  father  was  a  generous 
man,  liberal  to  profusion,  and  had  never  learned  to  man- 
age dollars  and  cents  economically.  He  could  not  say 
"nay"  to  a  friend  who  wished  to  borrow.  In  an  evil 
hour  he  indorsed  to  a  large  amount  for  one  who  proved 
a  traitor  to  the  best  of  friends.  The  integrity  of  my 
truly  excellent  father  forbade  his  taking  any  advantage  by 
that  evasion  so  often  practiced  under  such  circumstances, 
and  which  amounts  to  downright  swindling.  He  placed 
all  his  property  at  the  disposal  of  the  creditors,  not  re- 
serving even  the  smallest  amount  of  personal  property. 

There  was  no  hiding  away  of  silver  spoons  or  valuable 
plate, — even  my  paintings  were  sold  at  auction;  but  what 
grieved  me  most  was  the  loss  of  my  piano — one  of  supe- 
rior tone  and  quality,  knocked  off  under  the  hammer  for 
thirty -five  dollars.  Then  came  the  pinchings  of  close 
economy,  which,  notwithstanding  the  industry  of  my 
mother  and  the  untiring  energy  of  my  father,  failed  to 
place  us  in  comfortable  circumstances  again ;  and  it  was 
found  so  exceedingly  difficult  to  live  in  Washington  that 
my  father  resolved  to  seek  a  home  in  St.  Louis,  Avhere 
he  had  friends  and  relatives  who  were  willing  to  aid  him 
in  procuring  some  lucrative  business. 

Before  he  left  I  had  sought  and  obtained  a  situation 
as  a  teacher  in  the  interior  of  Virginia.  In  this  I  was 
aided  by  the  influence  of  some  kind  friends  in  high 
places,  who,  being  persuaded  of  my  fitness  for  the  posi- 
tion, soon  procured  me  ample  patronage.  But,  alas!  the 
place  selected  for  my  new  home  was  at  the  distance  of 
three  hundred  miles,  which  I  was  to  travel  by  stage  in  the 


iS4  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

dreary  month  of  December,  and  over  the  worst  of  roads, 
three  weeks  being  the  time  required  to  accomplish  it. 

I  was  placed  under  the  care  of  a  respectable  old  gen- 
tleman who  lived  at  Wytheville,  whither  I  was  going  to 
try  my  fortune  as  a  school-ma'am.  The  afternoon  upon 
which  I  left  my  home  can  never  be  effaced  from  my 
memory.  Ours  was  a  silent  meal,  as  we  surrounded  for 
the  last  time  the  family  board  together.  My  tears  flowed 
fast,  and  every  mouthful  of  food  that  I  attempted  to 
swallow  seemed  as  if  it  would  choke  me.  Though  my 
own  heart  was  breaking,  I  tried  to  smile,  that  my  dearly 
loved  father  and  mother  might  the  better  bear  my  de- 
parture. The  scene  that  followed  that  meal  is  indescrib- 
able. I  left  the  house  clinging  to  my  father's  arm,  with- 
out daring  to  look  behind  me;  and  he  handed  me  into 
the  stage-coach  after  one  more  convulsive  pressure  in  his 
arms.  I  closed  my  eyes  for  a  moment  in  agony, — and 
when  I  opened  them  again  he  was  gone.  I  never  saw 
him  more.  I  can  not  now,  after  the  lapse  of  nearly  fifty 
years,  dwell  upon  this  without  anguish — 't  is  never  to  be 
forgotten  "while  life  or  being"  lasts. 

We  tarried,  my  old  gray-headed  friend  and  I,  the  first 
night  in  Alexandria.  Externally  it  was  a  dreary  nigh't — 
the  wind  blew,  and  the  cold  raindrops  pattered  on  the 
pavement,  as  we  drove  up  to  the  gloomy-looking  old 
tavern  where  the  stage  stopped.  Our  supper  was  cheer- 
less— mine  was  untasted.  Retiring  early  to  my  solitary 
chamber,  a  flood  of  tears  relieved  my  overcharged  heart, 
and  with  tolerable  composure  I  began  to  make  arrange- 
ments for  a  night's  rest.  The  wind  was  whistling  through 
the  long,  wide  passages  of  the  old  tavern,  rattling  the 
broken  shutters,  and  roaring  in  the  empty  closets,  of 
which  there  were  two  in  the  chamber  I  occupied ;  and 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  155 

then,  to  cap  the  climax,  my  door  had  no  fastening.  I 
placed  the  table  against  it,  and  upon  the  table  a  chair, 
and,  surmounting  all,  my  little  old  hair  trunk  (for  who 
ever  heard  of  a  Saratoga  trunk  in  those  days?),  so  that, 
if  any  one  should  attempt  to  enter,  the  noise  of  the  fall- 
ing furniture  might  awaken  me.  Useless  precaution!  I 
slept  none ;  and  the  gray  dawning  light  found  me  still 
treating  my  pillow  to  a  tear-bath,  and  resolving,  in  the 
agony  of  my  soul,  that  I  would  abandon  my  journey, 
and  return  home. 

A  bright  morning  sun,  however,  dispelled  much  of 
the  gloom  that  surrounded  me;  and  better  thoughts, 
with  happier  anticipations,  enabled  me  to  go  forward  in 
the  path  of  duty.  I  had  always  a  very  strong  confidence 
in  an  overruling  Providence,  and  it  seems  to  me  now  that, 
even  when  a  child,  my  faith  in  the  goodness  and  mercy 
of  God  formed  a  part  of  my  very  being.  I  began  to 
pray  at  so  early  an  age  that  I  can  scarcely  date  the 
period;  and  I  then  lifted  up  my  heart  as  sincerely  in 
prayer  to  God,  believing  as  firmly  in  his  existence  and  in 
his  parental  love  as  I  'have  done  ever  since,  though  my 
expanded  mind  and  maturer  judgment,  with  the  constant 
experience  of  his  loving-kindness,  have  rendered  me  more 
deeply  sensible  of  my  own  unworthiness  of  the  multiplied 
mercies  that  I  have  enjoyed. 

After  leaving  Alexandria  we  had  a  disagreeable  jour- 
ney of  several  days  over  roads  almost  impassable,  with 
frequent  joltings  over  corduroy  bridges,  before  we  reached 
Richmond.  Here  we  rested  for  a  day,  as  we  had  yet  a 
journey  of  nearly  two  weeks  before  us;  and  here  I  had 
the  good  fortune  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  a  citizen 
of  Wytheville,  Granville  Henderson,  Esq.,  a  member  of 
the  Virginia  Legislature,  then  in  session.  Mr.  Hen- 


156  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

derson  was  a  man  of  excellent  abilities,  sound  judgment, 
and  a  warm  heart.  He  showed  me  much  kindness,  and 
manifested  great  interest  in  my  welfare;  giving  a  cheer- 
ing account  of  my  future  prospects,  insisting,  at  the  same 
time,  that  I  should  make  his  house  one  of  my  homes, 
especially  during  his  absence,  as  his  wife  was  alone  with 
the  exception  of  a  little  daughter,  who  would  be  one  of 
my  pupils.  "Mrs.  Henderson,"  he  added,  "was  antici- 
pating my  arrival  with  great  pleasure,  as  were  other  pros- 
pective patrons  of  the  school." 

I  visited  both  houses  of  the  Legislature,  composed  of 
very  respectable  and  dignified  looking  men,  who  appeared 
to  transact  business  with  quiet  decorum  and  great  dis- 
patch; the  members  showed  more  respect  and  polite- 
ness towards  each  other  than  is  usually  seen  in  legis- 
lative halls. 

The  principal  object  of  interest  in  Richmond  was  the 
Monumental  Church,  founded  on  the  very  spot  where  the 
theater  was  burned.  This  melancholy  and  startling  event 
marked  the  close  of  the  year  1811.  During  the  repre- 
sentation of  a  popular  tragedy,  "The  Bleeding  Nun," 
the  stage  scenery  caught  fire  from  the  lamps.  It  was  at 
first  thought  to  be  a  slight  affair,  as  the  fire  was  promptly 
arrested,  and  supposed  to  be  entirely  extinguished;  but, 
in  less  than  five  minutes  after,  the  exciting  cry  of  fire! 
fire!  was  heard  from  behind  the  scenes,  and  the  actors 
came  rushing  across  the  stage  in  the  greatest  confusion ; 
some  on  fire,  others  striving  to  pull  down  the  burning 
curtains.  The  terrific  scene  that  followed  was  beyond 
description.  There  was  but  one  mode  of  egress  from  the 
theater,  and  the  flames  were  spreading  with  unexampled 
rapidity;  the  passage  was  so  crowded  in  a  few  minutes 
that  many  were  trampled  to  death ;  some  sprang  from  the 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  157 

upper  windows,  and  others  tried  to  escape  across  the 
stage,  though  it  was  enveloped  in  flames.  Seventy-two 
persons  lost  their  lives  in  the  conflagration ;  among  them 
the  Governor  of  Virginia.  The  inhabitants,  while  the 
flood-gates  of  grief  were  open  in  their  hearts,  and  sorrow 
a  living  object  before  them,  planned  this  church  as  a 
memorial  of  the  dead  buried  under  the  ruins  of  the  old 
theater.  They  poured  out  their  money  like  water.  Art, 
taste,  and  genius  lent  their  aid,  and  the  work  went  on 
rapidly  for  a  while;  but  more  and  more  slowly,  as  the 
awful  scene  faded  from  their  memory,  and  the  building 
in  1819  was  yet  unfinished,  though  another  theater  had 
been  erected  in  another  part  of  the  city,  as  if  to  show 
how  narrowly  joy  may  be  partitioned  off  from  sorrow; 
how  the  merry-hearted  and  the  broken-hearted  may  be 
unconsciously  pillowed  in  proximity ;  and  how  the  world 
jogs  on  in  its  daily  routine  indifferent  to  the  feelings  of 
either. 

What  a  picture  of  the  instability  of  human  charac- 
ter— the  evanescence  of  human  feeling.  The  church, 
however,  is  now  finished  with  a  monument  in  front — the 
pale,  cold,  beautiful  marble  pointing  heavenward  in  com- 
memoration of  the  event 

A  gentleman  of  undoubted  veracity,  and  not  in  the 
least  tinctured  with  superstition,  collected  and  published 
some  remarkable  dreams  and  mysterious  forebodings  of 
coming  events  connected  with  this  awful  catastrophe,  one 
of  which  still  lingers  in  my  memory.  A  young  officer 
had  procured  tickets  for  himself  and  his  betrothed,  an 
interesting  girl  of  great  worth  and  beauty,  whom  he  had 
persuaded  to  attend  the  theater  with  him  on  that  fatal 
night.  She  was  opposed  to  such  amusements,  but  prom- 
ised to  accompany  him  for  this  once,  as  he  was  to  leave 

ii 


158  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

the  next  morning  to  join  his  regiment.  Calling  for  her 
at  the  appointed  hour,  he  found  her  in  tears.  "Why, 
Mary,  what  is  the  matter?  why  are  you  not  ready?  You 
surely  do  not  intend  to  disappoint  me.  Come,  we  have 
not  a  moment  to  spare."  She  shook  her  head  sadly,  as 
she  raised  her  tearful  eyes  to  meet  the  reproachful  look 
of  her  lover.  "It  is  of  no  use,  Edward,  I  can  not,  I 
dare  not  go."  "What !  can  you  have  the  heart  to  refuse 
me  this  little  request,  when  I  leave  you  to-morrow — it 
may  be  forever?  I  know  you  are  a  Christian,  Mary,  but 
I  did  not  think  you  so  sanctimonious  as  to  condemn  this 
innocent  recreation;  but,"  he  added,  betraying  consid- 
erable nervousness  at  seeing  no  smile  in  her  half-averted 
eyes,  and  receiving  no  response  from  her  trembling  lips, 
"tell  me  the  cause  of  this  sudden  change."  She  replied, 
with  some  hesitation,  "I  dreamed  last  night  we  were  in 
the  theater,  and  deeply  interested  in  the  performances, 
when  the  cry  of  fire  was  heard,  and  the  whole  house  was 
enveloped  in  flames.  Amid  the  alarm  and  confusion  that 
followed  we  were  attempting  to  force  our  way  down 
stairs,  and  were  crushed  to  death  by  the  advancing 
crowd."  "All  this  is  sheer  nonsense,"  said  Edward. 
"Dreams  go  by  contraries.  You  can  not  possibly  be  so 
superstitious  as  to  make  this  a  pretext  for  staying  at 
home."  An  unwonted  pallor  spread  over  the  face  of  the 
young  girl,  and  she  shuddered  as  if  striving  to  suppress 
the  intensity  of  her  feelings.  Overcome  by  the  pressing 
entreaties  of  her  lover,  and  dreading  the  ridicule  of 
her  gay  friends,  she  reluctantly  consented  to  go;  but 
her  fears  were  not  dispelled.  Edward  and  Mary  went, 
but  never  more  returned.  Her  dream  was  literally  veri- 
fied; they  were  actually  trampled  to  death  in  the  gal- 
lery, and  their  remains  could  only  be  distinguished 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  159 

among  the  heaps  of  crushed  and  mangled  bodies  by 
his  silver-hilted  dagger  and  the  inscription  on  her  en- 
gagement ring. 

Many  premonitions  and  warnings  by  dreams  and  other- 
wise were  recorded  in  that  book.  Perhaps  great  calami- 
ties have  some  mysterious  power  given  them  to  send 
forward  a  dim  presentiment  of  their  advancing  footsteps, 
impressing  the  mind  with  the  idea  that  in  to-day  already 
walks  to-morrow. 

At  the  end  of  three  weeks  we  arrived  at  Wytheville, 
just  in  time  to  be  at  the  marriage  of  the  oldest  daugh- 
ter of  my  good  old  friend  and  traveling  companion, 
Mr.  Oury.  The  stage  drove  up  early  in  the  forenoon  to 
his  door,  where  we  were  met  by  the  whole  family,  and 
received  with  that  warm  cordiality  which  belongs  to  Vir- 
ginia and  to  Virginians.  We  were  ushered  into  a  com- 
fortable room,  and  I  felt  that  we  were  surrounded  by 
warm  hearts;  every  body  talked,  and  nobody  listened. 
Scarce  two  hours  had  elapsed  after  my  arrival,  when  Mrs. 
Smith,  Mrs.  Henderson,  her  daughter,  and  other  ladies 
came,  in  the  friendliest  manner,  to  welcome  me  to  Wythe- 
ville, and  each  one  begged  that  I  should  make  her  house 
my  home. 

If  time  were  always  counted  by  incidents,  how  much 
longer  would  some  days  be  than  others !  That  day  would 
have  made  a  week  of  ordinary  life. 

On  leaving  Washington  for  Wythe,  a  letter  was  handed 
to  me  by  General  Daniel  Parker,  recommending  me  to 
the  "most  favorable  consideration  of  those  whose  ac- 
quaintance" I  might  "wish  to  cultivate."  Shortly  after 
my  arrival  at  my  new  home  I  was  gratified  to  know  that 
the  kindness  of  my  friends  at  Washington  was  yet  fol- 


i6o  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

lowing  me,  as  the  subjoined  letter  from  Dr.  John  Floyd, 
then  a  member  of  Congress,  will  show: 

WASHINGTON,  January  20,  1820. 

Miss  JULIA, — I  spent  the  evening  a  day  or  two  ago  with  your 
father  and  mother.  They  informed  me  you  had  gone  to  Wythe  C. 
H.,  at  the  instance  of  General  Smyth  and  Mrs.  Oury,  and  wished 
me  to  write  to  you  and  inclose  a  letter  to  some  of  my  friends  in 
that  part  of  the  country.  This  I  do  with  great  cheerfulness;  at  the 
same  time  I  am  persuaded  that  the  friendship  of  Mrs.  Oury  and 
General  Smyth  make  it  almost  unnecessary.  Your  family  are  quite 
well.  With  respect,  your  obedient  servant, 

JOHN  FLOYD. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  161 


CHAPTER  XI. 

WYTHEVILLE  was  noted  for  a  total  indifference  to 
religion.  There  was  not  a  church  or  any  place 
of  worship  in  the  town.  The  only  preacher  in  the  vi- 
cinity was  of  the  Dutch  Reformed  Church.  His  exam- 
ple was  of  the  worst  kind  —  carousing,  drinking,  cock- 
fighting,  and  playing  cards  during  the  week,  with  an 
occasional  sermon  on  the  Sabbath  to  a  sleepy,  ungodly 
congregation,  that  seemed  to  know  as  little  about-  the 
truths  of  the  Gospel,  as  if  our  Savior  had  never  made 
his  advent  into  the  world.  Strange  to  tell,  however, 
there  was  much  refinement  among  the  better  class;  for 
this  we  do  not  generally  expect  where  there  are  no  godly 
ministers  and  no  churches.  Politeness,  kindness,  and  true 
Virginia  hospitality  reigned  pre-eminently. 

My  first  introduction  into  their  midst  was  at  the  wed- 
ding before  mentioned.  The  company  was  collected 
before  six  o'clock.  The  ceremony,  which  took  place 
about  seven,  was  novel  and,  to  me,  very  interesting. 
The  minister  took  his  station  with  his  back  to  the  fire- 
place; the  bride  and  bridegroom  walked  in  first,  each 
having  an  attendant  holding  a  lighted  candle,  as  if  to  give 
the  company  full  opportunity  for  seeing  them  distinctly. 
The  minister  began  the  service,  and  every  one  rose.  The 
windows,  being  open,  were  soon  filled  with  the  black 
faces  and  woolly  heads  of  the  servants,  who  had  collected 
to  see  "young  missus"  married.  The  ceremony  was 
long,  followed  by  a  tedious  lecture,  at  the  close  of  which 


1 62  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

was  the  usual  amount  of  kissing,  which  occupied  nearly 
an  hour.  We  were  then  ushered  into  the  ball-room, 
the  bride  and  bridegroom  occupying  the  first  place  in  a 
"Virginia  reel."  The  "new  school-teacher,"  who  had 
previously  received  an  introduction  to  nearly  every  body 
present,  was  taken  out  and  placed  third  in  the  set. 

I  was  passionately  fond  of  dancing,  but  would  have 
preferred  being  a  spectator  on  that  evening  had  I  not 
been  afraid  of  giving  offense.  Some  amusing  mistakes 
were  made  in  the  various  attempts  to  speak  correctly  the 
unpronounceable  name  of  "  Hieronymus. "  My  first 
partner  asked  the  pleasure  of  dancing  in  the  reel  with 
"Miss  Roundabuss;"  the  next,  a  lad  about  seventeen, 
very  pompously  called  me  "Miss  Hippopotamus."  Aft- 
erwards came  a  young  disciple  of  ^Esculapius,  who  had 
recently  put  up  his  Galen's-head  in  the  town,  and  whose 
family  I  knew  in  Winchester.  He  thought  he  had  the 
name  precisely  when  he  called  me  "Heterogeneous;" 
others  called  me  "Hatrogenous;"  but  all  agreed  that  it 
was  far  easier  to  call  me  "Miss  Julia  Ann,"  and  this  was 
almost  universally  adopted. 

At  twelve  o'clock  my  principal  lady  patroness,  Mrs. 
Smyth,  who  had  claimed  me  from  the  first  as  her  guest 
and  boarder,  carried  me  off  to  her  own  quiet  home,  not 
a  hundred  yards  distant.  The  dancing  continued  all 
night,  and  many  of  the  guests  were  invited  to  breakfast 
the  next  morning  at  Mr.  Oury's  hospitable  house;  and 
the  gay  young  folks  who  had  not  succeeded  in  "tiring 
each  other  down"  the  night  before  continued  their  danc- 
ing until  noon. 

My  first  night  at  Mrs.  Smyth's  was  spent  sleeplessly, 
but  with  feelings  of  the  deepest  gratitude  to  God  that  I 
had  found  so  much  kindness  among  strangers.  True,  I 


YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  163 

had  left  a  home  to  which  in  all  probability  I  was  never 
to  return, — never  again  to  meet  in  the  home  circle  father, 
mother,  brothers,  and  sisters.  I  was  now  to  stand  alone, 
and  must  necessarily  rely  upon  myself.  The  broad  high- 
ways of  the  world  were  now  before  me,  and  I  must 
emancipate  myself  from  all  customary  indulgence,  take 
my  place  among  the  thronging  multitude,  and  commence 
life's  struggle  in  earnest. 

Oh,  how  my  solitary  spirit  yearned  to  see  once  more 
those  whom  I  had  left  behind!  No  more  sweet  girl 
friendships,  no  more  pleasant  walks  and  drives  along  the 
banks  of  the  lovely  Potomac  —  a  name  that  even  now 
touches  the  tenderest  chord  in  my  heart,  and  stirs  up 
the  life-blood  in  my  old  veins!  A  long  and  weary 
way,  the  difficulties  of  which  I  shuddered  to  think  of, 
separated  me  from  those  I  had  loved  and  cherished  from 
the  first  dawn  of  life.  Oh,  how  much  anguish  is  often 
crowded  into  our  hearts,  battling  with  bitter  memories ! 
But  in  the  midst  of  all  this  darkness  the  trembling  star 
of  Hope  still  faintly  shone,  and  ere  the  rosy  light  of 
morning  came  my  soul  felt  stronger,  and  with  the  natural 
elasticity  of  a  cheerful  disposition  I  commenced  immedi- 
ately to  prepare  for  my  new  vocation.  I  soon  learned 
that  the  life  of  a  faithful  teacher  must  be  one  of  toil  and 
unremitting  care.  All  my  fairy  visions  of  romance  faded 
into  stern  reality  as  my  responsibility  for  others  increased. 

And  now  came  to  my  aid  those  early  lessons  of  piety, 
so  deeply  impressed  upon  my ~  mind,  not  only  by  home 
influences,  but  by  the  privileges  enjoyed  under  the  min- 
istry of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Hawley.  I  was  a  regular  attend- 
ant, having  been  baptized  and  confirmed  there,  though 
not  a  communicant,  and  consequently  not  recognized  as 
a  member  of  the  Church. 


1 64  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

But  to  return  to  my  school.  I  rented  a  large  upper 
room  in  a.  house  contiguous  to  General  Smyth's.  The 
kindness  of  my  patrons  relieved  me  from  all  trouble  and 
expense  as  regarded  desks,  benches,  etc.  My  school- 
room was  neatly  fitted  up  for  the  accommodation  of 
thirty  or  forty  pupils.  All  the  little  misses  in  the  village 
attended — some  grown  girls — and  a  few  little  boys.  A 
few  of  the  girls  were  larger  and  considerably  taller  than 
the  teacher.  One,  I  remember,  stood  over  six  feet  in 
her  shoes,  and  had  seen  but  sixteen  Summers.  This, 
however,  was  an  exception. 

The  first  day,  with  all  its  petty  vexations,  passed  off 
smoothly,  though  I  retired  at  night  with  an  aching  heart, 
burdened  with  a  painful  interest  for  my  pupils.  I  was 
rather  doubtful  whether,  with  my  inexperience  and  want 
of  tact,  our  association  would  be  for  weal  or  woe.  I 
began  again  the  next  morning  with  renewed  vigor,  class- 
ing and  arranging  my  pupils  so  as  to  give  me  as  little 
trouble  as  possible;  and  .then  commenced  my  course  of 
instruction  with  the  elementary  principles.  By  the  end 
of  the  first  week  I  had  learned  an  important  lesson  myself, 
which  can  not  be  too  deeply  impressed  upon  a  teacher's 
mind.  A  person  who  has  not  the  patience  to  communi- 
cate knowledge,  drop  by  drop,  should  never  undertake 
the  instruction  of  ignorant  children,  since  it  is  impossible 
to  pour  into  their  minds  by  copious  streams.  The  heart, 
too,  must  be  deeply  interested  in  the  work,  or  there  will 
be  no  success.  That  teacher,  who  feels  no  conviction  of 
the  importance  of  the  cause,  and  no  solicitude  about  the 
issue,  should  give  up  the  office. 

And  now,  like  a  beam  of  light  across  the  shadoAvs  of 
the  past,  comes  the  memory  of  my  much-loved  pupil, 
friend,  and  companion,  Frances  Smyth,  who,  though  only 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  165 

fourteen  years  of  age,  rendered  herself  both  useful  and 
agreeable  to  me.  A  certain  expression  of  frankness  about 
her  won  my  heart  immediately.  So  natural  and  without 
disguise  was  her  character,  and  so  winning  the  simplicity 
of  her  manners,  due  to  her  child-like  innocence  and  sweet 
feminine  timidity,  that  she  soon  became  the  sunshine  of 
my  daily  existence,  helping  to  dispel  the  clouds  that 
sometimes  gathered  around  my  heart.  There  was  some- 
thing noble  in  the  lineaments  of  her  fair  face,  brilliantly 
lighted  up  at  times,  and  corresponding  with  her  graceful 
figure.  Eyes  "bright  and  blue  as  the  Summer  sky,"  and 
a  mouth  trembling  with  half-smiles,  arising  from  the  very 
buoyancy  of  inward  gladness;  a  complexion  enriched  by 
the  sweetest  and  most  delicate  bloom,  allied  to  a  tone  of 
cheerfulness;  and  her  every  motion  so  light  and  free  that 
a  poet  might  have  supposed  her  some  "Hebe  or  fair 
young  daughter  of  the  dawn."  She  was  my  constant  and 
efficient  aid  in  carrying  out  every  arrangement;  yet  she 
was  gentle,  confiding,  and  one  of  the  most  obedient  of 
my  pupils. 

My  first  serious  difficulty  was  with  a  little  girl  about 
ten  years  of  age,  the  youngest  child  of  a  large  family,  who 
had  been  badly  spoiled  at  home.  She  was  noisy,  indo- 
lent, and  impatient  under  restraint.  Continually  teasing 
and  annoying  others,  this  little  nettle  top  went  on  from 
bad  to  worse,  until  endurance  was  no  longer  a  virtue.  I 
was  anxious  to  keep  her  in  school,  as  I  had  five  from  the 
same  family,  and  it  was  quite  to  my  interest  to  get  along 
pleasantly  with  her.  But  it  could  not  be.  One  afternoon 
her  resistance  to  my  authority  reached  its  climax;  so  I 
quietly  removed  her  from  the  school-room  to  an  adjoining 
apartment  and  gave  her  the  well-merited  punishment  with 
my  slipper,  the  first  she  had  ever  had  in  her  life.  Her 


1 66  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

screams  were  terrific.  There  was  an  awful  silence  in  the 
school  room,  and  you  might  have  heard  a  pin  drop,  as  I 
led  her  back,  and,  placing  her  bonnet  on  her  head,  ordered 
her  to  go  home  and  never  return.  I  then  quietly  resumed 
my  seat,  and  the  lessons  proceeded  as  usual  until  the 
hour  of  dismissal. 

I  remained  alone  until  nearly  night,  weeping,  praying, 
and  struggling  to  conquer  what  I  thought  my  own  ungov- 
ernable temper.  I  began  to  think  that  teaching  was  not 
my  vocation.  I  understand  it  all  now.  I  was  well  pleased 
so  far  as  the  dictatorial  part  was  concerned.  In  the  con- 
trol I  had  hitherto  exercised  over  my  sisters  while  at 
school,  I  had  never  been  contradicted ;  and,  notwithstand- 
ing the  constantly  recurring  petty  trials  in  early  life,  I 
had  not  learned  how  to  be  calm  and  unmoved  when  my 
will  was  opposed.  Every  possible  pains  had  been  taken 
to  secure  for  me  the  best  education.  I  had  been  the  idol 
of  my  father's  heart,  and  the  object  of  my  mother's  ten- 
derest  solicitude;  but,  while  the  love  of  knowledge  was 
carefully  instilled  into  my  mind,  I  had  failed  to  learn  that 
modest  diffidence  in  reference  to  my  attainments,  which 
presents  an  effectual  barrier  to  disagreeable  parade  and 
pedantry.  Every  thing  I  did  at  home  was  excellent,  and 
no  opportunity  was  lost  to  parade  my  attainments  to 
friends  and  visitors.  The  shock  I  sustained  in  being 
obliged  to  devote  my  talents  to  the  dull  routine  of  a 
school-room,  instead  of  making  a  display  in  society,  was 
terrible;  but  a  sense  of  duty  to  God  and  to  my  parents 
sustained  me.  I  knew  I  could  teach,  and  I  determined  I 
would  not  be  an  inferior  teacher.  But  let  me  here  re- 
mark that  young  persons  should  cultivate  a  humility  with 
regard  to  themselves,  which  is  the  life  and  soul  of  youth- 
ful exertion. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  167 

After  this  contest  with  my  little  pupil,  I  retired  to  my 
room  with  a  violent  headache,  deeply  humbled,  but  per- 
fectly determined  to  sustain  my  dignity  at  all  hazards. 
The  first  voice  that  I  heard  in  the  morning  uttered  this 
expression  with  deep  feeling:  "She  will  drive  away  all 
her  pupils;  people  will  not  submit  to  such  correction." 
"I  hope  not,"  was  the  gentle  reply,  "and  I'm  sure  she 
had  better  commence  in  the  right  way,  and  let  them 
know  what  is  due  from  the  pupil  to  the  teacher."  This 
I  heard  as  I  descended  the  stairs  which  opened  into  the 
breakfast-room.  General  Smyth  was  there,  looking  cold 
and  reserved.  Frances  ventured  one  kind  glance  from 
her  sunny  blue  eyes,  but  Nancy,  her  younger  sister,  sat 
trembling,  with  her  face  flushed  to  an  unusual  redness, 
and  my  sweet  little  Nannie  Henderson,  the  grand- 
daughter, a  child  six  years  of  age,  seemed  fluttered  and 
amazed  at  my  presence.  Mrs.  Smyth  bade  me  good 
morning  with  her  usual  cordiality.  No  one  spoke  during 
the  breakfast  except  by  way  of  courtesy. 

I  went  immediately  after  this  silent  meal  to  my  school- 
room. It  was  early,  but  most  of  the  girls  were  already 
assembled,  some  conversing  in  an  undertone,  others  study- 
ing diligently.  I  spoke  pleasantly  to  them,  and  gave 
kindly  answers  to  the  few  timid  questions  asked  about 
their  lessons,  though  my  heart  was  oppressed  in  reference 
to  the  possibility  of  my  losing  five  pupils  instead  of  one. 
I  would  not,  however,  have  taken  a  step  backward  if  I 
had  lost  my  whole  school.  But,  lo !  I  had  scarcely  fin- 
ished calling  the  roll,  when  in  walked  my  refractory 
pupil,  followed  by  the  other  four.  The  little  girl  walked 
rather  irresolutely  to  my  desk  and  placed  a  note  in  my 
hand.  She  stood  with  downcast  eyes  while  I  read  it. 
The  contents  were  somewhat  in  this  style:  "Please  re- 


1 68  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

ceive  my  penitent  little  girl  again,  with  the  positive  assur- 
ance that  every  thing  shall  be  done  to  prevent  future 
trouble ;  and  we  will  aid  you  in  subduing  and  punishing 
any  disobedience  on  her  part.  We  are  satisfied  that  you 
will  do  every  thing  in  your  power  to  promote  her  high- 
est interest,  and  are  willing  to  leave  the  matter  in  your 
hands." 

The  struggle  was  over.  She  remained  with  me  as 
long  as  I  was  in  Wytheville,  first  an  obedient,  afterward 
an  affectionate  pupil.  I  loved  her  the  more  because  she 
profited  so  well  by  my  correction.  Indeed,  the  whole 
family  continued  among  my  best  and  fastest  friends,  and 
I  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  some  of  them  after  a  lapse 
of  many  years. 

Indolence  may  be  sometimes  excited  into  action  when 
it  can  not  be  driven;  and  often  a  vice,  though  it  may  not 
be  forcibly  and  immediately  eradicated,  may  be  starved 
and  withered  in  the  shadow  of  an  opposite  virtue,  by  a 
skillful  and  assiduous  cultivator;  but  impertinence  and 
resistance  to  legitimate  authority,  and,  in  fact,  every 
species  of  disobedience  in  a  school,  must  be  promptly 
subdued. 

Previous  to  my  leaving  Washington,  my  kind  pre- 
ceptress, Mrs.  Stone,  gave  me,  with  the  following  letter, 
a  great  deal  of  instruction  which  I  practically  applied  in 
teaching : 

CITY  OF  WASHINGTON,  January  2,  1820. 

Although  an  entire  stranger  at  Wythe  Court  House,  the  interest 
I  take  in  the  future  of  my  friend,  Miss  Hieronymus,  is  such  that  I 
can  not  help  giving  my  testimony  of  her  full  capability  to  the  in- 
struction of  young  ladies.  During  the  three  years  of  my  intimacy 
with  Miss  Hieronymus,  part  of  which  lime  she  was  a  resident  in  my 
family,  her  conduct  in  every  respect  has  been  such  as  to  inspire  the 
affection  and  esteem  of  all  around  her,  and  nothing  reconciles  me  to 
the  painful  necessity  of  her  going  so  great  a  distance  from  us,  but 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  169 

the  certainty  that  her  talents  are  such  as  to  make  her  useful  to 
others  and  gain  friends  wherever  she  is  known.  Miss  Hieronymus 
has  had  the  advantage  of  being  educated  by  an  English  lady  who 
kept  a  large  boarding-school  in  Washington,  and  having  always 
paid  the  greatest  attention  to  her  studies  and  the  instruction  of  those 
about  her,  she  will  now  be  rewarded  for  all  her  exertions  by  being 
useful  both  to  others  and  herself.  ANNA  MARIA  STONE. 

Mrs.  Stone  also  gave  me  a  number  of  patterns  for 
drawing  and  painting,  and  a  quantity  of  white  velvet  on 
which  to  paint  in  water-colors;  trimmings  for  ball-dresses, 
belts,  capes,  aprons,  and  reticules  were  painted  on  this 
material.  Red  roses  blushed  in  gay  confusion  among  blue 
morning-glories  and  modest  violets,  half-hidden  by  a  ver- 
dant covering  of  green  leaves.  I  had  attained  great  skill 
in  the  use  of  the  pencil,  and  copied  flowers  from  nature 
so  correctly  as  rarely  to  need  an  India  rubber.  A  few 
specimens  of  this  ornamental  painting,  carried  by  my  pu- 
pils to  their  homes,  gained  me  quite  a  large  drawing-class, 
which  increased  considerably  the  profits  of  the  school. 

There  were  two  or  three  pianos  in  the  village,  and  a 
demand  for  music  lessons  soon  came.  I  had  been  teach- 
ing the  two  Miss  Symths  from  the  commencement.  They 
both  learned  rapidly;  but  the  younger  was  a  prodigy. 
She  could  play  upwards  of  fifty  tunes  before  she  could 
reach  an  octave  with  her  tiny  fingers.  Music  seemed  to 
dwell  in  her  soul,  and  the  sound  of  a  musical  instrument 
thrilled  through  her  whole  frame  like  electricity,  and 
what  was  most  astonishing  she  learned  pieces  with  more 
facility  by  note  than  by  ear.  She  never  wearied  practic- 
ing, and  flew  to  the  piano  at  playtime,  rather  than  dance 
on  the  green  with  her  young  companions.  When  I  left 
Wytheville  she  was  only  ten  years  old,  and  then  played 
correctly  nearly  one  hundred  pieces — simple,  to  be  sure, 
but  it  was  wonderful. 


i yo  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

As  I  had  no  piano  and  was  unable  to  purchase  one, 
I  could  take  but  few  music  scholars,  being  obliged  to  go 
to  the  homes  of  my  pupils  to  give  lessons,  between 
school  hours.  The  first  lesson  I  gave  was  at  noon,  a 
very  lazy  hour  I  must  admit,  and  as  I  entered  the  parlor 
I  found  my  pupil  sitting  in  a  large  rocking-chair  at  the 
piano,  swaying  herself  backward  and  forward,  playing, 
and  singing  at  the  top  of  her  voice.  She  had  a  fine  ear 
for  music,  and  had  taken  a  few  lessons  from  a  lady  in 
town,  but  played  all  her  pieces  by  heart,  never  having 
learned  her  notes. 

"Good  morning,  Miss  Julia  Ann,"  said  she,  as  I 
entered.  "Take  a  seat,  here  's  your  chair." 

"What!"  said  I,  with  astonishment,,  "do  you  intend 
to  sit  in  that  chair  while  taking  your  lesson?" 

' '  Why,  yes ;  it  is  mighty  comfortable  and  high 
enough,  see!" 

With  that  she  commenced  running  up  and  down  the 
scales  until  I  was  perfectly  astonished  at  her  facility. 

"Stop,"  said  I,  "rise  from  that  chair,  and  take  the 
piano  stool." 

"Oh,  no,  do  n't,  Miss  Julia  Ann;  I  shall  be  so  tired 
sitting  bolt  upright." 

"You  will  oblige  me  by  taking  the  piano-stool." 

"Well,  Miss  Julia  Ann,  and  are  you  going  to  stand 
the  whole  hour?" 

"Yes." 

And  I  stood  sullenly  the  full  sixty  minutes,  pointing 
to  the  notes  and  instructing  her.  It  was  the  custom 
then  to  give  three  lessons  a  week,  an  hour  each,  for  the 
small  sum  of  sixteen  dollars  per  session.  My  pupil  did 
not  attempt  the  rocking-chair  again  at  a  lesson,  though, 
I  doubt  not,  she  often  practiced  in  that  way.  I  after- 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  171 

ward  learned  to  love  this  young  girl  for  her  amiability 
and  proficiency. 

The  fact  is,  I  did  not  then  realize  the  honorable 
position  that  a  faithful  teacher  holds  in  society,  and  was 
yet  mourning  over  my  disappointed  expectations.  I  had 
hoped  to  be  a  lady  of  literary  leisure.  A  few  years 
taught  me  more  wisdom,  and  I  learned  to  be  sincerely 
thankful  to  my  Heavenly  Father  that  he  chose  for  me 
a  better  and  a  more  useful  path  in  life  than  that  of  living 
for  myself  alone,  floating  down  the  stream  of  time  with 
no  higher  aspiration  than  that  of  mingling  with  the 
"great  and  little  vulgar"  of  this  world.  I  wonder  now 
that  I  ever  should  have  desired  it.  I  had  no  taste  for 
fine  dressing  and  did  not  enjoy  fashionable  life;  would 
always  have  preferred  a  quiet  country  home  to  the 
amusements  and  frivolities  of  a  city;  and  yet,  had  I 
chosen  my  own  ways  I  should  have  been  a  mere  item 
in  this  great  world,  nothing  more. 

I  soon  found  it  impracticable  to  attend  to  my  school, 
give  lessons  in  Drawing  and  French,  and  do  justice  to 
my  few  music  scholars;  so  I  concluded  early  in  the 
Spring  to  send  for  my  sister  to  aid  me.  She  was  a  fine 
performer  on  the  piano  and  well  qualified  to  teach  both 
English  and  French.  In  the  meantime  I  toiled  on,  and  the 
more  I  had  to  do  the  more  my  energy  increased.  None 
of  the  labor-saving  inventions  patent  now  in  every  school 
were  then  known,  not  even  the  convenience  of  ruled 
letter-paper.  Having  no  time  during  the  day  for  extra 
duties,  I  was  obliged  to  take  the  copy-books  of  the  whole 
school  at  night  to  my  room,  which  were  first  ruled  and 
then  the  copies  set.  The  teacher,  if  she  did  her  duty, 
was  as  much  a  drudge  out  of  school  as  in  it.  I  was 
often  obliged  to  sit  up  till  twelve  o'clock  at  night,  copy- 


172  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

ing  music,  of  which  there  was  not  a  printed  sheet  in  the 
village,  preparing  sketches  for  my  drawing  class,  or  ex- 
amining- text-books.  I  never  would  teach  a  lesson  that 

o 

I  did  not  thoroughly  understand.  A  fatal  mistake,  made 
by  some  young  teachers,  is  that  of  attempting  to  teach 
through  the  medium  of  a  book,  what  they  do  not  un- 
derstand themselves.  This  excites  the  contempt  of  their 
pupils.  Children  are  scrutinizing  observers.  Providence 
has  made  them  so,  for  they  must  learn  every  thing,  at 
first,  by  imitation. 

The  houses  of  Wytheville  were  built  in  close  prox- 
imity; this  promoted  a  kindly  intercourse,  that  rendered 
the  whole  village  almost  like  one  extended  household. 
The  persons  with  whom  I  resided  were  pre-eminently 
aristocratic  by  wealth,  position,  and  intelligence ;  but  they 
assumed  none  of  the  airs  of  that  self-styled  class.  Fami- 
lies, whose  nobility  is  patent,  no  matter  how  great  their 
rank  or  riches,  are  not  afraid  of  coming  in  contact  with 
the  humbler  classes  of  society,  if  their  virtues  entitle 
them  to  sympathy  and  respect. 

Health  and  poverty,  so  said  General  Smyth,  charac- 
terized Wytheville;  but  I  found  its  more  definite  char- 
acteristics to  be  genuine  kindness  and  unostentatious 
hospitality.  I  never  knew  any  suffering  poor  among  the 
inhabitants.  They  dwelt  in  their  own  tenements,  were 
cheerfully  industrious,  and  lived  plentifully — some  luxu- 
riously. The  abundance  of  pure  air  and  fresh  water  in 
these  healthful  regions  was  a  constantly  recurring  joy. 
The  whole  country  was  rife  with  rosy  cheeks,  nimble  feet, 
brawny  shoulders — athletic  men  and  beautiful  women. 

No  wonder  the  inhabitants  of  mountainous  districts 
become  strongly  attached  to  their  homes,  where  mount- 
ain, valley,  forest,  living  streams,  and  deep  rivers  please 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  173 

the  eye  and  fill  the  heart  with  enthusiasm.  New  River, 
so  remarkable  for  the  variety  of  its  flowing  outlines,  its 
bewildering  mazes,  and  cloud-suffused  precipices,  looking 
down  gloomily  on  the  quiet  valley  beneath,  where  flows 
the  laughing,  sparkling  waters  in  which  is  mirrored  as 
blue  a  sky  as  ever  shown  upon  the  eye  of  beauty,  formed 
one  of  the  attractions  in  the  vicinity  of  Wytheville.  A 
beautiful  narrow  glen,  opening  into  a  broad  valley  richly 
wooded,  presented  the  agreeable  prospect  of  substantial, 
well-built  houses,  surrounded  by  forest  trees,  extensive 
orchards,  and  cultivated  fields.  I  can  not  forget  my 
first  visit  to  the  house  of  a  friend  who  lived  in  the 
midst  of  this  panorama  of  loveliness.  Words  are  in- 
adequate to  convey  an  idea  of  the  sublimity  and  gran- 
deur of  the  scene.  A  painter  could  give  but  a  faint 
picture,  for  no  canvass  could  reproduce  the  light  and 
color  that  played  around  this  charming  region  in  Sum- 
mer; no  skill  could  catch  the  changing  hues  of  purple, 
green,  and  gold  that  bannered  the  horizon  at  sunset;  nor 
the  glories  of  the  morning  sun,  when  just  appearing 
above  the  misty  mountains,  whose  base  afforded  a  fan- 
tastic and  fitting  channel  for  the  gleaming  river;  some- 
times hid  beneath  shelving  rocks,  now  rushing  forth  in  a 
rapid  torrent,  and  then  flowing  by  many  a  quiet  home- 
stead. Upon  its  banks  were  found  the  oak,  the  ash,  the 
walnut,  the  maple,  and  the  chestnut.  Sheltered  among 
the  branches  of  these  trees  a  myriad  of  singing  birds 
poured  forth  their  sweetest  notes,  the  whole  Summer 
long,  making  the  air  vocal  and  the  spirit  glad.  In  the 
dim  distance  were  seen  stately  firs  clinging  to  the  rugged 
sides  of  the  precipitous  cliffs,  all  pointing  upwards  and 
seeming  to  have  no  common  interest  with  the  earth;  but 
like  the  rocks  amid  which  they  grow,  they  remain  ever 


174  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

stern,  dark,  and  still.  The  celebrated  "Hawk's  Nest"  is 
found  on  one  of  the  highest  and  almost  perpendicular 
precipices  of  New  River;  an  Alpine  eyrie  fitted  for  birds 
of  prey,  and  from  which  one  might  expect  to  see  the 
circling  flight  of  the  American  eagle. 

I  found  a  kind  and  generous  friend  in  Captain  John 
Matthews,  Clerk  of  the  Court,  who,  having  no  daughter, 
sent  his  little  son,  Thornton  Posey,  about  eight  years  of 
age,  to  school.  This  child  became  peculiarly  dear  to  me. 
His  sparkling  eyes  and  always  animated  countenance 
showed  every  emotion  of  the  generous,  loving  child,  as 
evening  after  evening  he  came  to  my  desk  to  demand 
the  bundle  of  quill  pens  to  carry  to  his  father,  who 
mended  them  at  night  and  sent  them  back  in  the  morn- 
ing. I  had  never  learned  to  make  or  mend  a  pen,  and 
steel  substitutes  were  then  unknown.  This  saved  me 
much  time  and  trouble,  and  the  kindness  of  Mr.  Mat- 
thews is  written  on  my  heart,  not  as  with  a  pen,  but  as 
with  the  point  of  a  diamond,  never  to  be  effaced.  This 
is  only  one  instance  among  the  many  kindnesses  received 
from  him  and  his  excellent  wife. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  175 


CHAPTER  XII. 

I  HAVE  spoken  of  'my  routine  of  school  duties  as  being 
so  various,  that  the  question  may  be  asked,  How 
my  time  was  divided,  so  as  to  give  each  duty  proper 
attention?  I  used  the  monitorial  system  to  some  extent, 
which  gave  me  an  hour  in  the  morning  and  one  in  the 
afternoon  to  attend  to  my  French  and  Drawing;  but  in 
the  same  large  room  where  the  whole  school  was  seated ; 
thus  I  had  an  opportunity  of  overlooking  the  appointed 
monitress,  who  heard  the  recitations  of  the  younger  chil- 
dren, and  taught  the  a,  b,  abs,  as  successfully  as  I  could 
have  done  it  myself.  The  last  half  hour  in  the  forenoon 
of  each  day  was  devoted  to  writing;  my  music  lessons 
were  given  at  noon  and  at  night. 

I  still  retain  a  clear  recollection  of  many  interesting 
circumstances  connected  with  my  early  teaching,  and 
relevant  to  the  object  of  this  work.  Some  of  my  pupils 
were  very  lovely  girls,  and  gave  promise  of  future  use- 
fulness in  life;  others  possessed  a  brilliancy  of  mind  that 
enabled  them  to  improve  rapidly,  and  were  a  constant 
source  of  delight  to  me.  They  come  up  now  like 
beams  of  light  through  the  opening  clouds  of  the  past ; 
and  among  these  heart  -  shadows,  so  strangely  dear, 
are  visions  that  will  not  depart, — sweet  memories  that 
will  never  die. 

One  among  my  Wytheville  pupils  forms  a  beautiful 
picture.  Classical  features,  a  well-formed  head,  crowned 


176  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

with  hair  dark  as  the  raven's  wing,  a  high,  pale  forehead, 
large,  dreamy  eyes,  imparting  an  air  of  melancholy,  might 
have  characterized  her  as  a  Jewish  maiden,  had  it  not 
been  for  the  beautiful  clearness  of  her  complexion.  Her 
obliging  disposition  and  lady -like  manners  rendered  her 
agreeable  to  her  school-mates  and  attractive  to  her  friends. 
I  have  often  looked  at  her  as  she  bent  quietly  over  her 
books  during  study  hours,  and  thought  her  exceedingly 
beautiful,  more  like  a  dream  of  poetry  than  a  visible 
reality,  and  I  mentally  repeated : 

"  Earth  hath  angels,  though  their  forms  are  molded 

But  of  such  clay  as  fashions  all  below  j 
Though  harps    are  wanting,  and  bright  pinions  folded, 
We  know  them  by  the  love-light  on  their  brow." 

This  young  lady  was  the  daughter  of  a  queer  old 
Irish  gentleman,  who  had  amassed  a  fortune  by  indus- 
try and  economy,  and,  having  the  good  sense  to  know 
when  he  had  enough,  retired  to  a  beautiful  farm  with  his 
family,  that  he  might  enjoy  it.  He  was  a  widower — 
three  interesting  daughters,  and  an  only  son,  the  pride 
of  his  father's  heart  and  the  idol  of  his  sisters,  formed 
the  domestic  circle.  But  the  son  upon  whom  so  many 
hopes  had  been  built  was  doomed  to  an  early  death  by 
consumption.  His  leaf  had  already  begun  to  wither  on 
the  tree  of  life  ere  he  reached  the  age  of  twenty.  He 
had  genius,  and  would  have  distinguished  himself  as  an 
author  had  he  lived, — what  he  accomplished  before  he 
died  left  its  impress. 

Oh,  how  many  beautiful  hopes  and  anticipations  were 
buried  in  his  early  grave !  But  it  was  a  blessing  to  know 
that  the  good  seed  of  eternal  life  had  already  budded, 
blossomed,  and  brought  forth  fruit  in  his  heart;  and  in 
his  dark,  lustrous  eyes  dwelt  a  holy  light  that  spoke  of 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  177 

better  things  than  the  earthly  honors  and  distinctions  so 
coveted  among  men. 

"The  fadeless  flowers  of  intellect  shall  bloom 
When  youth,  with  all  its  pride,  reposes 
Deep  in  the  tomb." 

The  earthly  immortality  of  the  mind  is  a  type  of  the 
immortality  of  the  soul. 

I  had  often' been  invited  to  visit  the  family;  but  long 
declined  their  invitations,  simply  because  I  had  no  suita- 
ble visiting  dress,  and  I  knew  the  Miss  F.'s  entertained  a 
good  deal  of  company.  Finally,  by  Mrs.  Smyth's  advice, 
I  determined  to  prepare  myself  for  a  little  recreation  in 
the  country,  and  accept  some  of  the  many  invitations 
given  me.  After  much  consultation,  it  was  decided  that 
I  should  purchase  a  black  India  satin.  Five  yards  was  a 
full  dress-pattern,  and  would  cost  only  a  little  upwards 
of  six  dollars.  This,  made  to  fit  neatly,  but  without  any 
extra  trimming,  was  relieved  by  a  rich  collar  of  tliread- 
lace  and  full  cuffs  of  the  same — some  of  the  remains  of 
my  Washington  finery — and  gave  me  quite  a  stylish 
appearance. 

Why  did  I  purchase  a  black  dress?  In  the  first  place, 
black  silks  or  satins  were  fashionable;  and  Mrs.  Smyth 
thought  I  looked  so  well  in  my  old  rusty  black  silk  that 
a  new  one  would  not  only  promote  good  looks,  but 
economy.  I  wore  no  ornaments  save  a  handsome  pin 
that  fastened  my  collar.  I  always  had  the  impression 
that  good  taste  required  no  decorations  except  those  that 
were,  or  appeared  to  be,  useful.  Finger -rings  and  ear- 
rings I  never  wore,  even  in  my  gayest  days;  so  that  if  I 
had  any  living  grace  it  was  not  destroyed  by  ornament. 

One  bright  Friday  afternoon  I  gratified  myself,  and 
doubtless  gave  much  pleasure  to  my  sweet  young  pupil, 


178  .  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

Sophie,  by  going  home  with  her,  to  spend  a  day  or  two. 
This  home  was  a  beautiful  one,  in  the  midst  of  a  pictur- 
esque country;  and  all  its  surroundings  exhibited  so 
much  taste  that  I  could  but  be  convinced  that  the  father 
possessed  a  genuine  love  of  the  beautiful,  though  he  Avas 
an  unlettered  man.  He  met  us  at  the  gate.  "Welcome 
ye  are,  see,  madam" — his  peculiar  manner  of  expressing 
himself.  "Come  in,  see;  you  're  right,  see,  Sophie,  to 
bring  the  school-ma'am  home  with  you.  Here,  Esther, 
come  see  the  school-teacher.  Glad  we  are,  see,  madam, 
to  have  you  with  us."  Being  a  widower,  Miss  Esther, 
the  eldest  daughter,  presided  over  the  household  affairs. 
Every  thing  bespoke  energy,  industry,  neatness,  and  at 
the  same  time  that  entire  comfort  to  be  found  in  many  a 
Virginia  home. 

On  Saturday  we  had  a  regular  dining;  some  of  the 
neighbors  were  invited,  who  paid  me  marked  attention, 
as  if  they  felt  that  I  had  conferred  a  favor  by  coming 
among  them. 

Just  before  dinner  was  announced,  my  blunt  but  kind 
old  host  took  his  seat  by  me,  placed  his  hand  upon  my 
satin  sleeve,  and,  shaking  his  head  ominously,  said : 

"  Fine  ye  are,  see,  madam ;  too  poor  ye  are  to  spend 
so  much  in  dress." 

I  was  startled  for  a  moment,  the  blood  rushed  to  my 
face,  my  eyes  swam  in  tears  at  this  apparent  rudeness; 
but  after  a  moment's  reflection  I  felt  the  truth  of  his 
remark, — I  was  dressed  with  apparent  extravagance  for 
a  person  in  my  condition.  Satin  and  rich  laces,  with  an 
immense  comb  of  real  shell — as  was  then  fashionable — 
did  seem  inconsistent;  but  looking  up  into  the  old  man's 
face,  which  shone  with  good  humor  and  real  interest,  I 
laughingly  replied:  "Oh,  no,  you  would  not  think  so  if 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  179 

I  should  tell  you  how  economically  all  these  have  been 
preserved,  and  how  little  they  cost  me;  and  this  is  the 
only  handsome  dress  I  have  in  the  world." 

"Well,  well,  right  ye  are,  see,  madam,"  and  he 
pressed  my  hand  kindly;  "so,  so  let  it  be." 

His  daughter  was  taking  French  lessons  from  me, 
and  his  next  question  was: 

"French  woman  ye  are,  see,  eh?     From  Paris?" 

"No,  sir,  I  am  a  native  of  the  United  States,  but  I 
speak  French  fluently." 

An  incident  occurred  at  the  dinner-table  which  will 
illustrate  what  an  incessant  talker  I  was.  After  the  first 
course  was  removed,  a  servant  passed  around  with  a  large 
tray  filled  with  sweetmeats,  preserves  of  various  kinds, 
rich  creams,  etc.  It  was  handed  to  me  first,  but  instead 
of  helping  myself,  as  was  expected,  and  suffering  her  to 
pass  on,  I  placed  one  dish  after  another  on  the  table 
around  my  plate  talking  all  the  time  with  great  volubility 
to  my  neighbor,  yet  wondering  why  the  servant  did  not 
place  the  things  upon  the  table  herself.  I  had  scarce 
finished  my  arrangement,  when  she  replaced  them  all 
upon  the  tray  and  passed  on,  leaving  me  minus  every 
thing.  I  looked  up  and  found  there  was  a  general  titter 
going  around  the  table  at  my  expense,  by  which  I  dis- 
covered my  blunder.  Not  the  least  confused,  however, 
I  joined  in  the  laugh,  which  relieved  the  embarrassment, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  made  them  feel  kindly  in  spite  of 
my  awkwardness. 

The  following  Monday,  after  my  visit  above  described, 
I  returned  to  the  school-room  and  attended  to  my  duties 
with  more  than  usual  energy.  The  girls  were  good  and 
industrious,  and  I  think  I  discovered  that  day  in  some, 
who  had  seemed  particularly  dull  before,  the  kindlings  of 


180  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

capacity,  perhaps  because  I  was  rested  and  consequently 
more  patient.  How  true  it  is,  that  the  smallest  flame 
has  its  moments  of  brightness;  and  there  is  a  period  in 
the  life  of  every  child  that  may  be  turned  to  its  own  ad- 
vantage, enabling  it  to  perform  something  good  if  not 
great.  Experience  has  taught  me  that  many  of  the  sev- 
erest trials,  and  constantly  recurring  vexations  of  daily 
life,  arise  from  our  own  want  of  preparation  to  struggle 
against  them.  Petty  annoyances  are  the  true  touchstones 
by  which  the  glittering  gold  of  our  philosophy  is  put  to 
the  test;  the  most  boasted  philosophy,  when  submitted 
to  this  test,  is  often  found  to  sink  into  a  common  metal. 

About  this  time  I  became  acquainted  with  the  wid- 
owed mother  of  one  of  my  pupils  by  the  name  of  Crock- 
ett, a  charming  old  lady,  whose  reminiscences  of  the  war 
of  Independence  were  full  of  interest  for  me.  She  showed 
me  a  dress  of  the  olden  time  containing,  to  my  astonish- 
ment, twelve  or  fourteen  widths  of  rich  brocaded  silk, 
embroidered  with  large  bunches  of  pinks  and  roses,  all 
wrought  with  the  needle;  the  skirt  was  so  stiff  that  it 
would  almost  stand  alone.  It  was  worn  open  in  front 
and  had  a  train  more  than  two  yards  in  length,  such 
being  the  fashion  in  the  middle  of  the  last  century.  Her 
father  had  paid  twenty  pounds  sterling  and  a  horse  for 
the  dress-pattern  before  the  war.  My  tall  pupil  was  the 
old  lady's  daughter.  I  paid  many  visits  to  this  hospitable 
family,  as  they  resided  near  town. 

So  soon  as  the  school  was  properly  organized,  I  began 
to  feel  anxious  that  my  pupils  should  spend  the  Sabbath 
in  a  religious  manner — the  Sabbath,  "sweet  bridal  of  the 
earth  and  skies" — that  I  had  been  accustomed  to  spend 
in  church-going  and  in  the  quiet  observance  of  religious 
duties.  I  have  before  mentioned  that  there  was  no  place 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  181 

of  worship  in  the  town,  no  preaching  except  an  occasional 
sermon  from  an  itinerant  preacher  who  held  forth  in  the 
Court  House;  and  none  but  the  boldest  of  this  class 
of  preachers  would  venture  to  remain  an  hour  after  ser- 
vice for  fear  of  some  mischievous  tricks  being  played 
upon  him. 

I  witnessed  none  of  this  irreverence,  however,  during 
my  stay  there.  Whenever  an  appointment  was  made  for 
preaching,  I  collected  as  many  of  my  pupils  as  I  could, 
and  marched  them  two  by  two  to  the  Court  House,  where 
we  were  honored  with  reserved  seats  inside  the  "bar." 
After  service,  I  took  them  all  back  to  my  school-room, 
tried  to  enforce  upon  them  the  truths  they  had  heard, 
lectured  them,  if  necessary,  and  then  sent  them  home. 

I  remember  only  once  attending  preaching  during  the 
week.  The  Rev.  Mr.  Lorraine,  with  whose  friends  I 
afterward  became  well  acquainted,  and  whose  writings, 
particularly  his  articles  in  the  Western  Christian  Advocate, 
I  have  since  read  with  pleasure  and  profit,  preached  one 
Wednesday  night  in  a  deserted  school-room.  It  was  a 
contracted  space  for  the  large  congregation,  and  many 
chairs,  great  and  small,  were  crowded  in  between  the 
rude  benches.  His  discourse  was  eloquent.  He  pre- 
sented the  benefits  of  religion  so  forcibly  to  his  auditors 
that  they  actually  began  to  talk  of  building  a  church, 
which,  however,  was  not  done  whilst  I  remained  there. 

My  whole  school  was  present  at  this  meeting.  I  took 
special  care  always  to  make  my  pupils  kneel  down  dur- 
ing prayer,  though  but  few  others  did  so.  That  memor- 
able night  a  mischievous  girl  who  knelt  opposite  another 
on  the  same  chair  tied  the  strings  of  the  sunbonnet  of 
her  vis-a-vis  to  the  chair  back,  and  when  the  poor  child, 
who  had  been  too  devout  during  prayer  to  notice  her 


!82  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

companion,  attempted  to  rise,  the  chair,  with  a  sudden 
rebound,  was  thrown  over  her  head,  and  nearly  knocked 
a  lady  down.  The  culprit  continued  kneeling,  afraid  to 
raise  her  head  for  fear  of  detection.  I  understood  the 
whole  affair  in  an  instant,  and  my  mortification  was  ex- 
treme ;  but  you  may  be  sure  the  delinquent  was  not  per- 
mitted to  pass  unnoticed  the  next  day. 

I  know  not  how  it  is,  but  I  have  always  been  under 
the  impression  that  sublime  mountain  scenery  inspired 
devotion ;  and  the  stillness  that  pervaded  this  wicked  little 
place  on  Sunday,  with  the  entire  absence  of  the  weekly 
din  of  mechanics,  confirmed  me  in  this  opinion.  There 
certainly  were  the  faintly  reflected  beams  of  Christianity 
shining  in  all  its  surroundings,  and  seemed  only  to  need 
an  "angel  to  trouble  the  waters  of  the  pool"  to  cleanse 
and  heal  the  waiting  people.  I  earnestly  prayed  that  I 
might  do  my  part,  in  bringing  in  the  children. 

Being  well  acquainted  with  the  morning  and  evening 
service  of  the  Episcopal  Church,  I  adopted  the  plan  of 
having  all  the  girls  meet  at  my  school-room  every  Sab- 
bath morning  for  religious  instruction.  First  I  read  the 
morning  service,  and  then  offering  up  an  extemporaneous 
prayer,  dismissed  them.  I  strove  at  these  meetings  to 
make  the  girls  feel  that  they  were  "treading  on  holy 
ground,"  trying  to  drive  away  the  world  with  all  its  cares 
during  this  consecrated  hour.  My  own  heart  enjoyed  it. 

The  worth  of  the  Sabbath  and  its  sweet  associations 
can  hardly  be  estimated  until  we  find  ourselves  deprived 
of  that  dove-like  peace  which  settles  over  the  soul  while 
discharging  its  hallowed  duties.  Time  and  eternity  here 
meet  for  a  few  fleeting  hours.  "From  earth  to  heaven  a 
scale  sublime  rests  on  either  sphere."  A  distinguished 
orator  has  said,  "You  might  as  well  put  out  the  sun  and 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  183 

think  to  light  the  world  with  tapers;  destroy  the  attrac- 
tion of  gravity  and  think  to  wield  the  universe  by  human 
power  as  to  extinguish  the  moral  illumination  of  the  Sab- 
bath and  break  this  glorious  main-spring  of  the  govern- 
ment of  God."  When  the  Sabbath  is  conscientiously 
kept  it  arrests  the  stream  of  worldly  thoughts,  interests, 
and  affections,  soothes  the  heat  and  hurry  of  existence, 
and  throws  off  the  burden  of  week-day  responsibilities, 
brings  rest  to  the  weary  soul  and  renewed  vigor  to  the 
body,  and,  best  of  all,  gives  us  a  special  opportunity  to 
make  ourselves  acquainted  with  the  being,  perfections, 
and  laws  of  God. 


T84  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

IN  March  my  sister  came.  She  was  young,  but  intelli- 
gent and  well  educated,  and  in  every  respect  fitted 
to  render  me  assistance.  Spring  had  made  its  advent, 
but  the  weather  was  still  cold  when  she  arrived.  Only  a 
few  trees  had  as  yet  ventured  to  put  forth  their  scarce 
unfolded  leaves,  and  the  prolonged  and  melancholy  sweep- 
ing of  the  wind  proclaimed  the  continued  reign  of  Win- 
ter. Emily  was  soon  domesticated  in  a  most  excellent 
family,  that  of  Mr.  Richard  Mathews,  where  she  was  ren- 
dered as  happy  as  she  could  be  under  the  circumstances. 

We  spent  our  days  together  in  the  school-room,  with 
an  occasional  interval  devoted  to  talking  of  home  and  the 
dear  ones  there.  Oh,  blessed  memory  of  those  twilight 
hours,  when,  the  school  and  all  its  cares  forgotten,  we 
transported  ourselves  to  the  dear  love-nest  of  ' '  Home, 
Sweet  Home!" 

Emily  was  as  remarkable  for  industry  and  energy  as 
I  was  for  perseverance  and  hopefulness.  She  was  often 
at  the  school-room  at  an  early  hour,  and  had  kindled  a 
fire  upon  the  hearth,  which  spread  a  rich  and  cheerful 
glow  around  as  if  to  welcome  my  appearance.  I  have 
known  her  to  wade  through  the  snow  to  perform  this 
duty  before  sunrise,  and  then  go  back  to  her  breakfast 
and  return  in  time  for  the  opening  of  school.  Her  de- 
votion to  me  was  equal  to  that  of  a  child  to  a  parent; 
we  had  scarce  ever  been  separated  in  our  lives.  As  her 
chirography  was  remarkably  beautiful,  she  entirely  re- 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  185 

lieved  me  in  the  writing  department  and  copied  nearly 
all  the  music  we  used.  She  brought  from  Washington 
several  large  bound  books  of  her  own  copied  music. 

Our  first  examination,  held  in  June,  was  almost  as 
new  to  myself  as  to  my  pupils;  for  since  my  school-days 
in  Winchester,  it  had  never  been  customary  to  have  ex- 
aminations in  any  school  that  I  attended;  but  it  seemed 
to  be  the  demand  of  the  people  here.  I  very  well  know 
that  the  desire  proceeded  principally  from  the  wish  to 
have  the  children  brought  forward  in  exhibition,  rather 
than  examination.  A  public  examination  is  never  a  true 
test  of  what  a  child  knows,  although  it  does  have  a  good 
effect  in  making  the  children  more  diligent  with  the  view 
of  having  their  knowledge  brought  out  publicly.  Re- 
views are  certainly  very  improving,  and  many  of  the 
exercises  on  such  occasions  tend  to  develop  ease  and 
grace  of  manner,  and,  while  they  do  not  take  away  the 
modest  diffidence  so  lovely  in  a  female,  they  give  a  de- 
gree of  self-confidence  which  is  generally  effectual  in 
banishing  awkwardness. 

I  may  as  well  say  here,  once  for  all,  that  I  believe 
far  more  ease  and  elegance  are  acquired  through  the 
medium  of  poetical  recitations,  dialogues,  and  composi- 
tions than  in  the  dancing-school.  Many  of  these  beau- 
tiful little  dramatic  scenes  containing  the  purest  morality 
and  into  which  girls  enter  with  infinite  delight,  forgetting 
themselves  while  personating  others,  I  have  successfully 
proved  to  be  the  best  medium  of  promoting  that  grace- 
fulness which  is  universally  supposed  to  be  attained  only 
by  dancing.  The  idea  was  first  suggested  by  a  desire  to 
avoid  the  dull  routine  of  an  examination  in  a  foreign 
language,  such  as  reading,  translating,  and  conjugating 
verbs,  for  a  long  time  the  only  method  of  exhibiting  the 


1 86  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

progress  of  a  French  class.  A  dialogue,  though  not  one 
word  may  be  understood,  is  an  agreeable  pantomine, 
always  fascinating  and  at  the  same  time  showing  the 
facility  with  which  girls  can  chatter  in  French. 

My  selections  were  from  Berquin's  "Children's  Friend," 
and  from  the  beautiful  little  dramas  of  Madame  de  Genlis, 
written  expressly  for  her  pupils  and  published  under  the 
title  of  "Theatre  d'  Education."  Hers  was  a  domestic 
school,  and  there  is  nothing  purer  than  the  morality 
taught  in  the  family  circles  of  France.  I  used  also  the 
school  dramas  of  Madame  Campan,  composed  for  her 
school  of  young  girls  connected  with  the  most  distin- 
guished families  of  France.  These  were  designed  for 
exhibition  before  their  own  household  and  a  few  select 
friends;  thus  they  were  models  of  propriety.  I  had  also 
the  examples  before  me  of  Madame  de  Maintenon's  suc- 
cess in  promoting  ease  of  manner  and  elegance  of  address, 
while  the  heart's  best  affections  were  cultivated  by  the 
rehearsal  of  those  model  little  dramas,  composed  by  Ra- 
cine at  her  request,  expressly  for  the  use  of  her  protegees 
in  the  Seminary  of  St.  Cyr,  which  she  founded  in  con- 
nection with  the  convent  of  that  name,  and  where,  under 
her  special  supervision,  nothing  impure  was  ever  per- 
mitted to  enter. 

V        . 

This  examination  closed  my  first  half-year,  and,  of 
course,  the  material  was  somewhat  raw;  but  with  the 
assistance  of  my  sister  and  some  of  the  older  and  more 
intelligent  pupils,  matters  were  so  arranged  as  to  give 
entire  satisfaction  to  the  community  and  infinite  delight  to 
my  patrons.  Owing  to  our  success,  the  fame  of  which 
was  spread  abroad  through  the  country,  our  next  term 
opened  with  increased  numbers,  and  the  school  became 
much  more  profitable. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  187 

I  enjoyed  the  intervening  vacation  with  a  zest  I  never 
felt  before.  It  was  as  the  mellow  moonshine  to  the  path 
of  the  weary  pilgrim.  I  took  long  walks,  sat  under  shady 
trees,  read  interesting  books,  with  my  affectionate  sister 
ever  by  my  side.  Frances  Smyth  was  generally  with  us, 
gathering  wild  flowers,  for  she  had  already  begun  to  take 
great  interest  in  Botany.  As  the  Summer  advanced  we 
gathered  fruits  and  berries,  which  were  very  abundant. 
We  wandered  through  the  woods  and  up  the  mountain 
pathways  and  often  tarried  to  watch  the  golden  sunset, 
steeping  in  splendor  each  wood  and  dell,  and  flooding 
the  Western  sky  with  glory.  How  sweet  the  recollection 
now,  and  how  almost  impossible  to  realize  the  lapse  of 
years — years  full  of  joy  and  sorrow. 

At  the  close  of  one  of  those  beautiful  days,  having 
retired  to  my  room  quite  early,  and  while  preparing  for  a 
night  of  balmy  sleep,  a  servant  girl  knocked  at  my  door 
and  handed  me  a  letter  with  a  large  black  seal.  My  dear 
little  Frances,  who  was  my  room-mate,  and  whose  soul 
was  full  of  sympathy  for  me,  caught  a  glance  of  the  seal, 
and,  turning  pale  from  apprehension,  threw  herself  into 
the  nearest  chair,  and  covered  her  face  with  her  hands. 
'Twas  long  before  my  trembling  fingers  succeeded  in 
breaking  the  seal,  and  some  minutes  before  I  dared  read 
the  whole  contents  of  that  letter,  the  commencement  of 
which  ran  thus:  "My  dear  young  friend, — I  am  so  well 
aware  of  the  deep  affection  you  bear  your  family,  that  I 
can  scarcely  believe  but  you  are  making  some  arrange- 
ment to  bring  your  widowed  mother  and  the  dear  little 
orphans  that  are  left  to  your  present  home."  For  some 
moments  I  was  unable  to  read  further;  the  word  "or- 
phan" sounded  like  a  death  knell  to  my  heart,  which 
seemed  only  to  be  saved  from  breaking  by  deep  sobs  and 


1 88  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

groans,  while  my  poor  little  Frances  wrung  her  hands  in 
utter  despair  at  being  unable  to  comfort  me.  After  the 
lapse  of  an  hour  or  two,  I  had  read  and  re-read  the  con- 
tents of  this  sad  letter  in  which  was  stated,  not  the 
whole,  but  the  partial  suffering  of  my  mother  and  the 
children  since  the  loss  of  my  father,  who  had  died  some 
weeks  before  at  New  Madrid,  Arkansas,  having  secured 
through  the  agency  of  Colonel  Briarly,  his  warmly 
attached  friend,  an  Indian  Agency  in  that  State,  which 
would  have  been  the  home  of  his  family  had  he  lived. 
The  letter  concluded  by  saying,  "I  will  see  that  your 
friends  do  not  suffer  while  they  remain  here,  and  will  aid 
you  in  getting  them  off."  How  kind,  how  considerate. 
True  friendship  shines  out  in  bold  relief  in  times  of 
adversity,  and  "dies  not  in  the  storm." 

The  remainder  of  the  night  my  mind  was  occupied 
and  somewhat  soothed  in  planning  for  their  removal; 
and  I  felt  the  truth  of  the  expression,  that  active  misery 
is  more  easily  borne  than  self-indulgent  sorrows.  Our 
Heavenly  Father  has  mercifully  ordained  that  in  thinking 
and  doing  for  others  we  are  measurably  delivered  from 
that  weight  of  grief  which  worketh  death.  The  sharp 
arrows  of  affliction,  which  would  otherwise  rankle  in  the 
heart  and  drink  up  its  life-blood,  rendering  us  unfit  for 
earth  and  heaven,  may  be  withdrawn  by  deeds  of  mercy 
and  duty. 

Anxious  and  troubled  as  I  was  about  my  mother  and 
her  helpless  little  family,  the  night  seemed  interminably 
long.  Day  came  at  last,  and,  after  consultation  with  my 
friends,  I  obtained,  through  their  kindness,  money  enough 
to  accomplish  my  purpose.  This  was  borrowed,  for  all 
my  own  earnings  had  been  previously  used  in  the  pur- 
chase of  a  piano.  My  plan,  immediately  put  into  execu- 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  189 

tion,  left  me  nothing  to  do  the  remainder  of  the  day  but 
to  read,  think,  and  pray.  How  I  blessed  God,  that  he 
had  given  me  a  mother  who  had  early  taught  me  to  carry 
my  sorrows  to  a  throne  of  grace;  and  now  that  he  had 
taken  my  earthly  father,  I  prayed  that  I  might  have  a 
double  share  of  his  love.  Yet,  with  all  this,  my  mind 
would  revert  with  inexpressible  anguish  to  the  departed 
one.  Oh,  if  he  had  but  been  spared  to  return  home  to 
die  in  the  arms  of  those  he  loved  so  tenderly,  and  his 
last  loving  looks  and  words  been  left  as  mementos  in  the 
bosoms  of  those  who  loved  him. 

My  affliction  was  increased  by  the  pangs  of  remorse; 
his  last  affectionate  letter  had  been  to  thank  me  for  a 
small  sum  of  money  I  had  sent  home,  and  to  entreat  me 
to  write  to  him  immediately,  or  he  might  not  probably 
hear  from  me  again,  as  he  was  about  to  leave  home.  I 
had  neglected  writing  until  it  was  too  late ;  this,  with 
many  other  little  omissions,  that  I  would  not  have  remem- 
bered had  he  lived,  kept  open  the  flood-gates  of  sorrow, 
and  added  to  the  poignancy  of  grief,  and  rendered  me 
almost  frantic  under  the  dreadful  stroke.  A  few  weeks 
elapsed,  and  I  had  the  comfort  of  being  reunited  with 
those  I  best  loved  on  earth.  My  affection  for  them  was 
increased  tenfold.  Ah !  't  is  death  that  teaches  heavy 
lessons,  and  hard  to  bear;  yet  it  is  often  by  such  means 
that  our  great  Creator  brings  out  the  exhaustless  treas- 
ures of  those  heaven-descended  virtues  which  prepare  us 
for  usefulness,  and  kindle  anew  the  flames  of  undying 
love — at  the  same  time,  making  the  fire  burn  brighter  on 
the  domestic  hearth-stone  for  those  that  are  left. 

The  memory  of  the  delicate  attentions  bestowed  upon 
my  mother  and  the  family  by  the  little  community  of 

Wythe  are  beyond  the  oblivious  touch  of  time.     Pleasant, 

'3 


i  go  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

too,  the  memorials  of  God's  mercy  to  me  at  that  period. 
If  we  were  accustomed  to  rear  an  altar  wherever  we  re- 
ceive a  mercy,  how  many  of  these  memorials  would  be 
presented  in  the  retrospection  of  our  lives  :  and  the  review 
of  the  past  would  create  confidence  for  the  future.  I  se- 
cured a  pleasant  boarding-house  for  my  mother  until  I 
could  make  arrangements  for  housekeeping,  which  was 
very  soon  done.  The  house  we  procured  was  large 
enough  to  accommodate  six  or  eight  boarders,  which 
added  considerably  to  our  income,  and  increased  the  repu- 
tation of  the  school.  My  mother's  prudent  economy  and 
good  management  enabled  us  to  live  very  comfortably. 
The  children  were  all  at  school,  while  my  mother  had 
them  under  her  own  moral  and  religious  training. 

Time  wore  on,  and  we  were  becoming  so  well  recon- 
ciled to  our  situation  that  we  regarded  Wytheville  as  our 
permanent  home.  We  had  two  young  ladies  from  North 
Carolina  placed  under  our  care,  the  elder  of  whom  was 
a  devotedly  pious  Methodist;  and  was,  as  I  afterwards 
understood,  then  engaged  to  a  Methodist  preacher,  whom 
she  would  marry  on  her  return  home  at  the  close  of  the 
year.  She  was  one  of  my  best  students ;  and  while  sit- 
ting quietly  at  her  desk  one  morning  poring  over  her 
books,  a  knock  was  heard  at  the  school-room  door,  which 
opened  into  the  street.  A  servant  entered  with  a  note  for 
Miss  Dickson.  It  contained  the  request  that  she  would 
go  to  the  tavern  immediately  to  meet  the  Rev.  Mr.  K., 
who  was  just  from  her  home  with  letters,  etc.  I  desired 
the  servant  to  inform  the  gentleman  that  if  he  wished  to 
see  Miss  D.  he  must  call  upon  her,  for  she  could  not  go 
to  the  tavern.  Scarce  half  an  hour  elapsed  when  the 
door  of  the  school-room  again  opened — but  without  a 
knock  this  time — and  in  walked  the  Rev.  Mr.  K.  With- 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  191 

out  taking  the  slightest  notice  of  anybody  in  the  room 
except  Miss  D.,  he  advanced  and  took  a  seat  at  her  desk 
without  invitation,  crowding  out  her  companion  sitting 
on  the  other  side.  The  poor  girl  was  in  such  a  dreadful 
state  of  confusion,  that  I  carefully  avoided  adding  to  her 
distress  by  making  any  remark.  In  the  meantime  it  was 
difficult,  by  the  sternest  looks  I  could  assume,  to  prevent 
the  whole  school  from  bursting  into  laughter.  The  gen- 
tleman sullenly  kept  his  hat  down  over  his  brow,  and 
even  had  the  temerity  to  lay  his  arm  on  the  back  of  her 
chair,  while  he  talked  incessantly  in  an  undertone — she 
making  no  reply  whatever.  When  he  had  finished,  he 
arose  and  walked  out  as  abruptly  as  he  had  entered.  He 
paid  dearly  for  his  indiscretion.  They  were  never  mar- 
ried, and  I  feel  assured  it  was  partly  on  this  account.  A 
delicate,  sensitive  woman  is  not  apt  to  forgive  one  who  so 
offends  against  good  taste  and  propriety  as  to  expose  her 
carelessly  to  the  ridicule  of  others.  This  man  haughtily 
assumed  the  right  to  control  and  direct  before  he  had 
the  power;  and  she  had  the  good  sense  to  anticipate 
tyranny,  if  not  oppression. 

Nothing  occurred  for  some  months  worth  relating. 
My  school  was  full;  I  had  many  interesting  pupils  from 
the  neighboring  counties  and  some  from  North  Carolina. 
Our  labors  were  increased  in  proportion,  yet  so  low  were 
the  prices  for  teaching,  that  we  were  not  able  to  do  more 
than  live  comfortably  and  keep  out  of  debt.  We  were 
grateful  to  God  that  we  enjoyed  the  blessing  of  being 
together,  bound  by  stronger  ties  in  consequence  of  the 
necessity  of  mutually  aiding  each  other. 

One  morning  in  the  following  Spring  I  received  a 
letter  from  General  Smyth,  enclosing  a  proposition  from 
Captain  Frank  Smith,  of  Abingdon,  offering  me  a  very 


i92  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

advantageous  situation  in  his  family  as  governess  to  his 
only  child,  offering  a  salary  equal  to  the  present  income 
from  the  school,  stating,  at  the  same  time,  that  a  com- 
fortable residence  could  be  procured  for  my  mother  and 
her  family  only  half  a  mile  from  his  house.  "Now," 
said  General  Smyth,  "having  complied  with  the  request 
of  my  friend,  I  can  not  advise  you  to  go,  because  I  know 
you  are  doing  well  here,  and  may  do  better.  We  hope 
to  build  up  an  institution  in  this  place  through  your 
instrumentality,  which  shall  bear  your  name.  Receive, 
therefore,  the  assurance  that  I  speak  the  sentiments 
of  the  community  when  I  say  we  should  prefer  your 
remaining;  but  we  feel  too  deep  an  interest  in  your  wel- 
fare to  assume  the  responsibility  of  asking  you  to  decline 
this  favorable  opportunity  of  securing  a  pleasant  home, 
with  less  care  for  yourself  and  an  ample  support  for  your 
mother  and  her  children." 

I  felt  exceedingly  grateful  to  Gen.  Smyth  for  this 
kindness;  I  knew  that  he  was  interested  in  having  me 
remain,  because  his  two  daughters  and  granddaughter 
were  making  rapid  progress  under  my  care,  and  I  knew 
too,  that  he  was  sincere  in  all  that  he  had  said;  besides, 
I  had  become  very  much  attached  to  every  one  in  and 
around  Wytheville.  It  had  been  a  pleasant  home  to  me, 
my  toils  and  cares  had  been  lightened  by  the  smiles  of 
affection.  Even  now,  when  I  think  of  the  wealth  of  love 
that  was  bestowed  upon  me  by  those  persons  who  had 
scarce  known  me  two  years,  and  the  loving  kindness  of 
some  of  my  pupils,  my  heart  beats  faster  and  my  pulse 
quickens  with  the  rush  of  fond  memories.  Every  hill, 
every  stream,  and  almost  every  tree  had  become  endeared 
to  me  by  association.  My  first  impulse  was  to  stay.  I 
might  make  new  friends,  but  none  that  would  be  dearer. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  193 

At  the  close  of  the  day  I  consulted  my  mother  upon  the 
subject.  She  was  decidedly  opposed  to  the  change. 
"We  are  comfortable  now,"  said  she,  "and  I  am  satis- 
fied we  can  not  do  better.  A  rolling  stone  gathers  no 
moss."  I  retired  that  night  with  a  fixed  determination 
to  decline  Captain  Smith's  generous  offer;  but  before  the 
close  of  the  next  day,  after  much  deliberation,  we  came 
to  a  different  conclusion  and  determined  to  make  our 
arrangements  at  the  close  of  the  session  for  a  permanent 
settlement  in  Abingdon.  This  was  not  done,  however, 
without  many  regrets  on  my  part. 


194  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

MY  journey  from  Wytheville  to  Abingdon  was  sad 
enough.  I  had  parted  for  an  indefinite  period, 
perhaps-  forever,  from  many  whose  friendship  and  affec- 
tion would  cling  to  my  heart  through  all  my  future  career, 
and  yet,  those  were  with  me,  to  whom  I  was  bound  by 
the  strongest  ties  of  love,  I  had  the  promise  of  a  visit, 
at  no  distant  period,  from  my  beloved  Frances,  should  she 
not  be  sent  away  to  school.  This  somewhat  relieved  my 
overburdened  heart,  for  of  all  the  dear  ones  I  left  behind, 
none  were  so  dear  as  she.  Her  remembered  acts  of  kind- 
ness and  love  forced  upon  me  the  conviction,  that  we 
never  value  what  we  possess  in  the  same  degree  as  we 
value  what  we  lose. 

We  left  Wytheville  in  the  early  dawn  of  a  most  beau- 
tiful Summer  morning.  It  was  a  journey  of  only  sixty 
miles  to  Abingdon,  but  it  would  take  two  days  to  ac- 
complish it.  We  wended  our  way  slowly  over  a  broken 
mountain  road  which  had  never  been  graded — a  macad- 
amized turnpike  was  unknown.  We  traveled  in  an  old- 
fashioned  nine  seated  stage  coach,  drawn  by  four  horses 
changed  at  long  intervals.  We  lunched  and  rested  at 
mid-day  beneath  the  spreading  trees,  whose  interwoven 
branches  made  network  of  the  dark  blue  light  of  day. 
Water  from  a  gushing  stream,  the  depth  of  whose  source 
defied  the  heat  of  Summer,  quenched  our  thirst,  while 
we  inhaled  the  fragrance  of  rock-hung  flowers,  the  sweet 
brier  and  the  health-inspiring  pine. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  195 

On  the  evening  of  the  second  day  we  reached  our 
destination.  With  that  natural  repugnance  to  meeting 
strange  faces  and  mingling  with  strange  people,  who 
neither  knew  nor  cared  for  us,  we  were  not  sorry  to  enter 
the  town  after  the  "downy  hand  of  rest"  had  sealed 
the  eyes  of  most  of  the  inhabitants.  Stopping  at  a  tavern 
kept  by  a  Mrs.  Soule,  we  were  soon  made  to  feel  com- 
fortable and  quite  at  home  by  this  agreeable  woman  and 
her  pleasant  family  of  daughters.  Before  sleeping  a  night 
in  that  house  we  felt  sure  of  finding  the  same  friendly  hos- 
hospitality  in  Abingdon  as  in  Wytheville.  A  more  intimate 
acquaintance  proved  the  social  intercourse  to  be  charming, 

My  mother  soon  procured  a  dwelling,  comfortable  and 
sufficiently  spacious  to  admit  of  one  large  room  being 
fitted  up  for  my  sister's  prospective  day-school.  This  was 
in  a  short  time  filled  with  young  girls,  among  whom 
were  half  a  dozen  music  scholars.  Mrs.  Smith,  from  the 
"Meadows,"  the  name  of  Captain  Smith's  place,  came 
as  soon  as  she  knew  of  my  arrival  to  take  me  to  her  home. 
This  home  was  but  a  short  walk  from  my  mother's,  yet 
I  had  the  convenience  of  a  carriage  to  go  and  come  as 
I  pleased.  My  kind  and  excellent  patrons  manifested  so 
much  interest  in  those  I  loved  best  in  the  world,  that  my 
heart  was  completely  won.  My  dear  mother  had  a  great 
passion  for  gardening,  was  particularly  fond  of  the  cul- 
tivation of  flowers,  and  had  here  ample  space  to  indulge 
herself  in  the  sweetness  and  beauty  of  the  fairy  creations 
she  cherished. 

I  can  scarcely  find  language  to  convey  a  correct  idea 
of  the  beautiful  surroundings  of  my  new  home,  "The 
Meadows."  I  arose  early  the  first  morning  after  my 
arrival  to  wander  about  the  grounds ;  yet  not  too  early  to 
find  the  milkmaids  abroad,  and  other  servants  engaged  in 


196  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

their  proper  occupations.  The  sweetest  influences  of 
nature  shed  a  peculiar  loveliness  over  this  beautiful  do- 
main. A  profusion  of  wild  flowers  sprang  up  amid  the 
grassy  meadows;  the  dew  glittered  on  the  lawn,  and  the 
murmurs  of  a  nameless  music  made  vocal  the  sweeping 
branches  of  the  grand  old  trees  in  the  neighboring  woods. 
The  beauty  of  the  place  at  this  quiet  morning  hour  stole 
like  a  charm  over  my  senses.  I  stood  by  a  gushing 
spring  whose  pellucid  waters  flowed  in  a  wide  stream  of 
sufficient  depth  to  reflect  the  sky  in  masses  of  crimson 
shadows,  "a  liquid  mirror,  imaging  all  the  woven  boughs 
above,  and  each  depending  leaf,"  murmuring  gently  on- 
ward with  its  wealth  of  sunshine  to  disperse  its  translu- 
cent waters  through  the  green  meadows.  I  felt  actually 
oppressed  with  delight  as  I  viewed  this  enchanting  scene. 
Every  breath  I  drew  was  a  deep  inspiration  of  rapture.  I 
inhaled  with  it  the  odor  of  roses  and  sweet  Summer  flow- 
ers, and  my  heart  swelled  with  gratitude  as  I  exclaimed, 
"The  lines  have  fallen  to  me  in  pleasant  places." 

I  met  Mrs.  Smith  in  the  door-way  as  I  returned,  with 
her  little  Mary,  who  had  been  introduced  to  me  the  even- 
ing before,  but  was  too  timid  to  allow  me  to  progress  far 
toward  acquaintance.  Now  she  welcomed  me  with  a 
pleasant  smile,  and  her  large  eyes  seemed  full  of  emotion, 
as  her  mother  said,  "Mary  is  prepared  to  love  you,  and 
I  trust  she  will  be  a  good  girl ;  but,  if  she  should  be 
naughty,  do  not  fail  to  report  it  or  correct  her  as  you 
think  proper."  .As  I  afterward  found,  Mrs.  Smith  had 
pursued  a  very  judicious  course  with  this  child.  Being 
an  only  child,  she  was  surrounded  by  influences  well  cal- 
culated to  spoil  her  had  it  not  been  for  the  firm  and 
steady  hand  of  her  mother,  who  regarded  her  as  her  most 
precious  jewel. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  197 

Mary  was  but  nine  years  old,  with  a  sweet,  chubby 
little  face  and  bright,  sparkling  eyes;  truly  one  of  the 
most  lovable  children  I  ever  knew. 

Captain  Smith  was  a  man  of  prepossessing  appearance 
and  agreeable  manners,  an  open,  good-humored  counte- 
nance, with  merry  eyes,  full  of  fun  and  frolic.  He  was 
devoted  to  his  wife,  and  her  influence  over  him  was  un- 
bounded; but  the  silken  cords  by  which  she  led  him  were 
not  visible  to  the  common  eye.  He  was  naturally  dis- 
posed to  be  economical,  but  she  rendered  him  munifi- 
cent. Their  unvarying  kindness  to  numerous  friends 
and  relatives  made  their  house  a  Mecca  to  the  hearts  of 
all  who  had  once  enjoyed  its  hospitality.  Captain  Smith 
and  his  wife  contributed  much  to  the  happiness  of  the 
whole  community  in  which  they  lived. 

A  few  weeks  of  experience  taught  me  that  my  little 
Mary  needed  the  emulation  of  companionship ;  for,  though 
confined  but  a  few  hours  during  the  day  to  her  books 
and  music,  I  found  that  it  required  a  great  effort  to  keep 
up  that  interest  necessary  to  rapid  improvement.  No 
sooner  was  the  suggestion  made  to  her  parents  than  they 
invited  three  little  cousins,  near  Mary's  age,  to  come  and 
enjoy,  with  her,  the  benefits  of  regular  instruction.  Very 
soon  we  had  Mary  Campbell,  Rachel  Morgan,  and  Eliza- 
beth Trigg  domiciled  in  the  family,  and  members  of  my 
school.  I  had  four  scholars,  no  more ;  and  the  privileges 
the  little  cousins  enjoyed  cost  them  nothing.  Captain 
Smith  paid  me  a  liberal  salary  for  his  own  daughter,  and 
I  did  not  desire  to  have  it  increased.  My  school-room 
was  sufficiently  secluded  to  prevent  interruption,  and 
many  were  the  peaceful  hours  I  there  enjoyed,  reading 
some  interesting  book,  while  my  "little  nest  of  singing 
birds"  were  preparing  their  lessons. 


198  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

From  the  window  of  my  own  cheerful  room,  where  I 
sat  after  school,  I  could  see  the  town  in  the  distance,  and 
near  by  was  the  sunny  nook  in  which  was  planted  the 
flower-garden,  whose  faint,  soul-dissolving  odor  diffused 
itself  through  the  whole  room  in  Summer.  Fairy-like 
were  the  beautiful  shadows  that  fell  from  the  pensile 
branches  of  the  weeping  willows,  and  changeful  the 
golden  light  that  shimmered  through  the  delicate  aspen 
leaves.  Grapevines  flung  their  leafy  garlands  from  branch 
to  branch,  and  grapes  were  hanging  in  green  clusters, 
giving  promise  of  an  abundant  harvest  of  this  luscious 
fruit  in  due  season.  Cattle  were  collected  in  groups 
under  the  friendly  shade-trees,  which  dotted  the  green 
meadow  land;  and  the  white  sheep  were  grazing  on  the 
distant  hills.  The  green  carpeted  lawn,  gently  sloping 
toward  the  road,  was  studded  with  knots  of  delicate  blos- 
soms, minute  but  beautiful.  On  the  left  was  an  orchard 
of  apple  and  peach  trees,  whose  branches  were  bending 
to  the  earth  with  delicious  fruit;  on  the  right  the  lawn 
with  its  rich  sweep  of  grass,  so  vividly  green.  How 
pleasant  to  sit  here  and  listen  to  the  ever-moving  air  as 
it  whispered  from  tree  to  tree.  The  balmy  breeze,  fresh- 
ening as  the  sun  declined,  brought  the  rich  perfume  of 
pinks,  roses  and  lilies,  while  the  flitting  shadows  of  even- 
ing and  the  mysterious  silence  that  hovered  over  all  stole 
into  the  heart  with  an  unseen  power,  hushed  its  passionate 
throbbings  and  gave  rise  to  pure  and  beautiful  thoughts, 
steeping  the  soul  in  visions  of  bliss  caught  from  the  quiet 
skies  above. 

Who  could  gaze  upon  such  a  scene  without  looking 
through  "nature  up  to  nature's  God,"  and  mentally  ex- 
claiming, "My  Father  made  them  all!"  These  were 
scenes  never  to  be  forgotten.  All  those  influences,  so 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  199 

tranquilizing  to  the  heart,  so  quieting  to  the  temper, 
made  me  feel  sensibly  that  the  providence  of  God  had 
brought  me  to  this  lovely  place,  where  I  might  enjoy  a 
home-life  calculated  to  train  me  for  heaven ;  for, 

"Hearts  grow  holier  as  they  trace 
The  beauty  of  the  world  below." 

I  received,  always,  the  most  respectful  attention,  not 
only  from  the  family,  but  from  their  friends,  relations, 
and  visitors.  Mrs.  Smith  had  the  good  sense  to  appre- 
ciate the  position  of  her  daughter's  teacher,  as  a  model 
from  whom  she  must  receive  moral  and  intellectual  train- 
ing. My  authority  was  never  interfered  with,  and  Mary 
never  lost  an  hour  from  her  school-duties  without  my 
consent. 

We  had  frequent  conferences  in  reference  to  my  little 
school.  I  found  in  this  excellent  woman  a  true  and  sens- 
ible friend;  I  might  almost  say  an  elder  sister,  whose 
companionship  was  perfectly  delightful  to  me. 

About  this  time  I  became  acquainted  with  that  excel- 
lent but  eccentric  old  lady,  Mrs.  Russell,  through  the 
medium  of  General  Frank  Preston's  family.  Mrs.  Rus- 
sell's first  husband  was  Colonel  Campbell,  the  hero  of 
"King's  Mountain."  Mrs.  Preston  was  the  only  child 
of  this  marriage,  and  the  heiress  to  a  portion  of  the  Salt 
Works,  in  Western  Virginia,  which  were  for  a  long  time 
the  source  of  immense  revenue  to  the  family.  Mrs.  Smith 
inherited  the  largest  portion  from  her  first  husband,  Mr. 
William  King,  whose  memory  is  still  cherished  through- 
out that  country  as  one  of  the  best  and  most  benevolent 
of  men.  He  came  from  Ireland  a  poor  boy  without  a 
penny,  one  of  the  many  instances  of  a  man  rising  to 
wealth,  honor,  and  distinction  by  virtue  and  industry 
alone.  Mr.  King  was  a  man  of  unsullied  reputation,  and 


200  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

it  might  well  be  said  of  him,    "An  honest  man's  the 
noblest  work  of  God." 

Mrs.  Russell  was  in  every,  way  an  extraordinary 
"woman.  The  sister  of  Patrick  Henry,  she  possessed 
some  of  his  characteristics.  Her  second  husband,  Gen- 
eral Russell,  was  quite  as  distinguished  as  the  first  for 
worth  and  bravery.  Both  she  and  General  Russell  were 
faithful  members  of  the  Methodist  Church.  They  were 
converted  in  the  good  old-fashioned  way,  when  nobody 
objected  to  shouting,  if  it  came  from  an  overflowing  heart 
filled  with  the  love  of  God.  The  old  General  walked 
worthy  of  his  vocation  until  he  was  taken  home  to  a 
better  world,  leaving  his  excellent  widow  a  true  type  of 
Wesleyan  Methodism.  "Madam  Russell,"  as  she  was 
generally  called,  was  a  "mother  in  Israel;"  and  the 
Methodist  preachers  in  those  days  esteemed  her  next  to 
Bishop  Asbury.  She  lived  for  a  while  in  Abingdon,  but 
as  the  gay  society  of  that  place,  particularly  among  her 
own  relatives,  was  uncongenial  to  her,  she  withdrew  to  a 
retired  spot  near  the  "Camp-ground,"  in  the  vicinity  of 
the  sulphur  springs.  At  this  place  a  wooden  house  had 
been  erected  under  her  special  superintendence,  and  ac- 
cording to  her  own  ideas  of  consistency.  Here  she  lived 
like  the  good  old  Moravian,  Count  Zinzendorf,  who  wrote 
over  the  portals  of  his  mansion: 

"As  guests,  we  only  here  remain, 

And  hence  the  house  is  slight  and  plain 
( Therefore  turn  to  the  stronghold,  ye  prisoners  of  hope). 
We  have  a  better  land  above, 
And  there  we  find  our  warmest  love." 

There  were  two  rooms  below,  large  and  spacious — the 
one  first  entered  being  her  common  sitting-room.  A  door 
from  this  opened  into  one  much  larger,  which  contained 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  201 

a  pulpit  and  seats  for  a  moderate  -  sized  congregation. 
When  a  preacher  visited  her  she  said:  "Brother,  how 
long  will  you  tarry?  There  's  the  pulpit;  shall  I  send 
out  and  call  together  a  congregation?"  No  visitors  came 
to  see  her,  and  remained  an  hour,  without  being  asked  to 
pray.  If  they  declined  she  prayed  herself,  mentioning 
every  person  for  whom  she  prayed  by  name. 

She  dressed  in  the  style  of  '76 — full  skirts,  with  an 
over-garment,  long,  flowing,  open  in  front,  and  confined 
at  the  waist  by  a  girdle,  and  made  of  a  material  called 
Bath  coating.  In  this  girdle  were  tucked  two  or  three 
pocket-handkerchiefs.  The  sleeves  of  her  dress  came  just 
below  the  elbows — the  lower  part  of  the  arm  being  cov- 
ered with  long,  half-handed  gloves.  She  wore  a  kerchief 
of  linen  lawn,  white  as  snow,  and  sometimes  an  apron  of 
the  same  material ;  and  on  her  head  a  very  plain  cap,  above 
which  was  usually  placed  a  broad-brimmed  hat  given  her 
by  Bishop  Asbury  in  days  long  gone  by,  and  worn  by 
the  old  lady  with  probably  the  same  feeling  that  Elisha 
wore  Elijah's  mantle.  She  was  erect  as  in  the  meridian  of 
life,  though  she  must  have  been  seventy  years  old  when 
I  first  saw  her.  A  magnificent -looking  woman,  "she 
walked  every  inch  a  queen,"  reminding  me  of  one  of  the 
old-fashioned  pictures  of  Vandyke.  She  never  shook  the 
hand  of  a  poor  Methodist  preacher  in  parting  without 
leaving  in  it  a  liberal  donation ;  she  knew  the  Gospel  was 
free,  but  she  also  knew  that  "the  laborer  was  worthy  of 
his  hire." 

The  celebrated  Wm.  C.  Preston,  of  South  Carolina, 
her  eldest  grandson,  loved  her  with  a  devotion  highly 
commendable  to  himself  and  agreeable  to  his  grand- 
mother. In  his  yearly  visits  to  his  native  home  his  car- 
riage was  found  first  at  the  door  of  her  humble  dwelling. 


202  JULIA  A.  TEWS. 

He  gave  evidence  on  his  dying  bed  that  his  grandmoth- 
er's religion  had  been  his  guiding  star,  and  his  love  for 
her  shone  as  brightly  in  the  evening  as  in  the  morning 
and  meridian  of  his  life.  I  knew  Wm.  C.  Preston  well. 
He  was  distinguished  as  a  man  of  cultivated  intellect, 
sound  judgment,  and  warm  affections.  As  an  orator,  I 
do  not  think  he  ever  had  his  superior  in  the  United 
States,  though  he  sought  not  the  world-wide  celebrity  he 
might  have  attained.  He  was  heard  to  say,  while  Pres- 
ident of  Columbia  College,  in  South  Carolina:  "I  believe 
teaching  is  my  vocation;  and  I  would  that  I  had  spent 
my  whole  life  in  striving,  like  Socrates,  to  educate  the 
young;  for  I  have  proved  the  difficulty  of  instructing 
those  more  advanced  in  life." 

An  anecdote  related  to  me  by  Mrs.  Russell  illustrates 
the  estimation  in  which  Patrick  Henry  was  held  through- 
out his  native  State.  When  she  first  came  to  South- 
western Virginia  she  attended  a  camp-meeting  when,  her 
relationship  to  Patrick  Henry  being  whispered  about, 
such  was  the  crowd  that  immediately  pressed  around  her, 
to  get  a  glimpse  of  one  so  distinguished,  that  she  was 
only  rescued  from  being  crushed  by  the  surrounding  mul- 
titude by  mounting  upon  a  stump,  where  she  was  com- 
pelled to  turn  round  and  round,  amidst  the  uproarious 
demonstrations  of  an  enthusiastic  people,  who  cried  out, 
"Hurrah  for  Patrick  Henry!"  with  an  occasional  shout 
for  Colonel  Campbell. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  203 


CHAPTER  XV. 

IT  is  the  generally  received  opinion  that  an  only  child, 
and  particularly  an  only  daughter,  must  be  petted, 
spoiled,  and  to  a  certain  extent  made  disagreeable;  if  so, 
Mary  Smith  was  an  exception  to  the  rule.  Her  mother's 
judicious  treatment  effectually  prevented  that  selfishness 
often  found  among  children  nursed  in  the  luxurious  lap 
of  indolence. 

Mrs.  Smith  was  decidedly  a  religious  woman,  and 
early  impressed  upon  little  Mary's  mind  that  she  had  a 
Father  in  heaven,  whom  she  should  love  and  obey;  while 
she  taught  her  that  there  was  an  evil  spirit  "going  about 
like  a  roaring  lion,  seeking  whom  he  might  devour." 

Mary  was  sitting  one  morning  at  the  breakfast-table 
when  only  four  years  old,  and  Charlotte,  her  maid,  Avho 
was  quite  a  character,  stood  at  the  back  of  her  chair, 
asking  what  she  would  have.  The  child  burst  into  tears, 
and  cried  bitterly. 

"What's  the  matter,  Mary?'    said  her  mother. 

Almost  suffocated  with  sobs,  she  replied,  "I  want 
some  batter-cakes." 

"No,  no,  Mary,"  said  Mrs.  Smith;  "think  again. 
You  know  you  can  have  batter-cakes;  Charlotte  will  help 
you  " — which  was  no  sooner  said  than  done. 

Mary  continued  to  cry  bitterly. 

"Look  at  me,  Mary;  wipe  your  eyes,  and  teH  me 
the  truth." 


204  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

The  child  obeyed,  and  said,  timidly:  "Mother,  I 
wanted  cheese;  but  the  devil  whispered  to  me,  and  said, 
'Ask  for  batter-cakes.'" 

After  breakfast  Mary  went  with  her  mother  to  a  re- 
tired place,  where  much  conversation  ensued,  the  result 
of  which  may  be  imagined. 

Mary  was  taught  to  do  every  thing  for  herself  that 
she  could — to  dress  and  undress  herself,  even  when  she 
was  a  tiny  child,  while  Charlotte  watched  the  process. 
If  at  any  time  she  needed  a  whipping  her  mother  gave  it 
to  her  conscientiously,  and  spared  her  not  for  her  pitiful 
cries  of,  "O  mother,  will  you  whip  your  only  child,  your 
only  daughter!" 

Thus  did  this  excellent  mother  go  on  sowing  the  good 
seed,  the  fruits  of  which  she  was  blessed  in  realizing,  and 
doubtless  carried  the  memory  with  her  to  a  better  world. 

I  have  said  that  Mary  was  but  nine  years  old  when 
placed  under  my  care;  yet  she  was  better  instructed  than 
children  of  her  age  generally,  and  though  a  playful  child, 
of  exuberant  spirits,  she  was  thoughtful,  sensitive,  and 
rather  mature  for  her  age.  Her  father  allowed  her  at  that 
time  a  monthly  stipend,  to  use  as  she  pleased,  and  I  do 
not  remember  a  single  instance  of  her  spending  one  dime 
merely  for  a  selfish  gratification,  though  I  have  many 
reminiscences  of  her  benevolent  tendencies. 

She  was  sitting,  one  evening,  sadly  resting  her  head 
upon  her  hand,  apparently  in  deep  thought.  It  was  about 
the  middle  of  a  very  cold  month;  her  mother  was  sew- 
ing— I  was  reading.  Captain  Smith  entered,  and  Mary 
sprang  to  her  feet. 

"O  father,"  said  she,  "my  monthly  allowance  is  all 
gone,  and  Charlotte  says  there  is  a  poor  woman  with 
little  ragged  babies,  living  about  a  mile  from  here,  who 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  205 

has  no  warm  blankets  to  cover  them,  no  warm  shoes  and 
stockings  to  run  in  the  snow." 

"What  will  be  done,  Mary?"  said  her  father.  "I  do 
not  like  to  advance  money  to  a  little  girl  who  gets  rid  of 
it  so  rapidly." 

' '  Father,  lend  me  five  dollars,  and  I  will  try  not  to 
want  any  more  next  month.  Charlotte  says  I  can  get  a 
pair  of  warm  blankets  for  that." 

The  money  was  given ;  she  went  with  her  charitable 
Methodist  maid,  bought  the  blankets  herself,  appropri- 
ated them,  and  the  happy  little  girl  kept  her  word,  ask- 
ing for  no  money  the  next  month.  The  woman  to  whom 
Mary  gave  the  blankets  came  frequently  the  next  Sum- 
mer to  bring  marketing,  which  Mrs.  Smith  always  bought, 
though  their  extensive  farm  supplied  them  with  every 
thing  they  wanted. 

Captain  Smith,  though  a  lawyer  by  profession,  was  a 
practical  farmer.  Thriving  orchards,  rich  pastures,  fertile 
meadows,  and  productive  grounds,  attested  the  constant 
supervision  of  the  master,  as  well  as  the  industry  of  those 
under  his  authority.  All  around  bespoke  thrift  and  com- 
fort— every  thing  was  well-conditioned,  even  to  the  lowest 
menial  on  the  place.  Mrs.  Smith,  though  in  feeble  health, 
and  accustomed  to  all  the  luxuries  that  wealth  could  pro- 
cure, did  not  make  these  an  excuse  for  indolence  or  self- 
indulgence.  She  looked  well  to  the  ways  of  her  own  house- 
hold, giving  to  each  a  portion  in  due  season;  and,  with  a 
heart  open  as  "melting  day"  to  the  sweet  influences 
of  charity,  she  stretched  out  her  hands  to  the  needy. 
Truly  "the  crown  of  the  wise  is  their  riches." 

The  poor  woman  alluded  to  was  a  humble  Christian, 
of  well-known  piety,  contented  and  industrious,  with  a 
large  family,  which  she  found  it  difficult  to  support;  but 

14 


206  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

her  faith  grew  stronger  as  poverty  grew  sterner.  Upon 
one  occasion,  after  Mrs.  Smith  had  paid  her,  she  stopped 
on  the  front  steps,  put  down  her  basket,  and,  looking  up 
at  the  lordly  mansion,  exclaimed,  "Well,  I  would  like  to 
go  all  through  this  house  once."  "You  shall  do  so," 
said  Captain  Smith,  who  was  present.  "Come,  I  will  go 
with  you."  She  followed  him,  stepping,  as  daintily  as 
she  could,  over  the  well  waxed  passage,  and  up  the  grand 
stair-way,  entered  into  every  apartment,  and,  after  giving 
each  a  hasty  glance,  returned  and  said,  as  she  took  up 
her  empty  basket,  "This  is  a  beautiful  house,  Captain 
Smith;  such  a  one  as  I  never  saw  before  and  never  care 
to  see  again ;  but  I  would  not  have  it  if  you  would  give 
it  to  me,  even  if  it  were  filled  with  gold,  for  I  should  lose 
my  own  soul  by  forgetting  God  in  the  splendor  that  sur- 
rounded me.  I  would  rather  sing,  'No  foot  of  land  do 
I  possess,'  and  feel,  in  truth,  I  am  a  pilgrim  in  the  wil- 
derness of  this  world,  with  the  hope  of  heaven  in  my 
heart.  My  Bible  tells  me  that  ,the  road  to  eternal  happi- 
ness is  not  paved  with  gold."  It  was  a  little  sermon,  not 
intended  as  such,  however,  but  it  reached  the  heart  of  the 
proud  man  who  thought  but  little  of  his  soul's  welfare, 
and  left,  for  a  few  moments,  a  shadow  upon  his  brow. 

The  even  tenor  of  my  life  during  the  first  year  of  my 
residence  at  "The  Meadows"  leaves  the  memory  of  but 
few  things  worth  relating.  My  dear  mother  and  her  little 
family  were  comfortable ;  my  sister's  school  was  profitable 
and  pleasant.  I  visited  them  regularly  once  'a  week, 
sometimes  oftener,  and  I  remember  no  pleasure  more 
exquisite,  during  my  whole  life,  than  that  I  experienced 
at  the  end  of  each  quarter,  as  I  placed  my  little  linen 
bag  of  silver  dollars  in  my  mother's  lap,  and  heard,  from 
her  own  precious  lips,  expressions  of  maternal  love  and 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  207 

tenderness.  I  can  almost  feel  now  her  hand  upon  my 
head  as  I  knelt  at  her  feet  with  beating  heart  and  throb- 
bing brow,  and  I  thought  then,  as  I  do  now,  what  an 
inestimable  privilege  to  be  enabled,  even  in  part,  to  pay 
back  the  immense  debt  of  gratitude  one  owes  to  a  parent, 
and  especially  to  a  mother.  The  wealth  of  maternal  love, 
who  can  estimate? 

Just  here  it  is  quite  proper  for  me  to  say  to  the  rising 
generation  of  girls  who  never  "have  time"  to  accomplish 
any  thing,  as  they  affirm,  striving  with  things  impossible, 
and  seeing  nothing  but  the  receding  wings  of  flying  op- 
portunities, that,  at  this  time,  I  not  only  attended  to  my 
regular  duties  as  a  teacher,  but  continued  to  make  the 
dresses  of  my  mother  and  sisters  as  well  as  my  own.  To 
be  sure,  new  dresses  came  few  and  far  between,  and  it 
was  easier  to  sew  up  three  widths  than  nine  or  ten.  I 
have  often  cut  out  a  dress  at  early  dawn  and  worn  it  at 
the  tea-table,  aided  by  no  sewing  machines  or  other 
fingers  than  my  own. 

I  saw  a  great  deal  of  company  necessarily,  and  though 
I  never  suffered  my  school-hours  to  be  interrupted,  yet 
my  toilet  was  always  made  in  such  a  manner  as  to  be 
prepared  to  meet  incidental  guests  in  this  hospitable 
mansion  daily,  and  I  am  sure  that  my  whole  wardrobe 
did  not  cost  me  more  than  twenty  dollars  a  year  at  that 
time.  Mrs.  Smith  always  dressed  elegantly;  never  con- 
spicuously or  expensively.  This  gave  her  the  opportunity 
of  showing  kindness  to  others,  and  I  was  not  forgotten 
among  the  many  recipients  of  her  generous  favors.  A 
handsome  dress  occasionally,  a  pair  of  gloves  or  some 
muslin  for  collarettes,  filled  up  beautifully  the  deficien- 
cies in  my  scanty  wardrobe,  and  rendered  me  presentable 
at  all  the  dinner-parties.  These  occurred  very  often  at 


208  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

"The  Meadows,"  but  at  country  hours,  so  that  all  the 
guests  might  depart  in  peace  before  dark;  and  as  they 
seldom  gave  evening  parties  in  this  wisely -governed 
house,  our  nights  were 

"As  tranquil  and  still 
As  the  mist  slumbering  on  the  hill." 

One  dining  now  looms  up  before  me.  My  little  girls 
were  taking  dancing  lessons  from  a  queer  little  man  by 
the  name  of  Fry,  whose  school  they  attended  every  Sat- 
urday. This  "maitre  de  dance"  though  he  could  teach 
the  five  positions  and  cut  the  "pigeon-wing"  to  perfec- 
tion, was,  by  no  means,  fitted  to  impart  grace  of  motion, 
ease  and  elegance  of  manners  to  his  pupils;  nevertheless 
he  tried,  and  was  particularly  unsuccessful  in  teaching 
them  to  courtesy  a  la  mode.  At  this  dinner  party,  which 
consisted  of  the  elite  of  the  neighborhood,  among  whom 
were  the  Prestons,  Johnsons,  etc.,  critics  in  style  and 
etiquette,  Mrs.  Smith  and  I  were  particularly  anxious 
that  the  girls  should  appear  well  when  introduced  into 
the  drawing-room  before  dinner.  They  were  directed, 
therefore,  to  make  their  best  courtesies  on  entering. 
Elizabeth  Trigg,  the  youngest;  and  least  likely  to  be 
abashed,  came  first;  the  others  following  in  regular  rou- 
tine. She  rested  on  her  left  foot,  poised  her  right  toe  in 
front  for  an  instant,  and  then  wheeling  half-round,  pre- 
senting her  back  io  the  company,  courtesied  so  low  as 
almost  to  lose  her  equilibrium.  Poor  little  Mary  Camp- 
bell followed  in  quick  succession  without  raising  her  eyes 
from  the  floor,  her  sweet  little  person  reminding  me  of  a 
dove  unfurling  its  silver  wings  for  flight.  Then  came 
Rachel  Morgan,  but  before  her  evolutions  were  quite 
finished,  and  just  as  Mary  was  advancing  Captain  Smith 
exclaimed,  to  the  extreme  mortification  of  the  girl,  "Fry, 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  209 

Fry,  Fry,  hold  on;  no  more  of  it."  My  confusion  was 
so  great  that  it  almost  blinded  me,  while  my  poor  little 
pupils  tucked  themselves  as  much  out  of  sight  as  pos- 
sible. We  were  all  soon  relieved,  however,  by  the  genial, 
laughter-loving  General  Preston,  who  walked  up  and 
brought  the  little  girls  out  of  their  hiding  places,  com- 
mending them  for  trying  to  imitate  so  practically  their 
dancing-master,  whose  business  it  was  to  teach  them  to 
make  their  manners. 

One  might  suppose  that  it  would  be  exceedingly  diffi- 
cult to  give  sufficient  variety  to  the  studies  and  pursuits 
of  only  four  children  without  sometimes  producing  weari- 
ness and  disgusting  them  with  the  school-room,  but  their 
exercises  were  rendered  sufficiently  interesting  and  agree- 
able by  much  oral  instruction.  They  had  text-books,  of 
course,  but  were  never  required  to  commit  to  memory 
any  thing  that  was  not  first  thoroughly  understood,  and 
many  were  the  fragrant  flowers  of  affection  culled  during 
those  school-hours. 

We  had  daily  exercises  in  music,  French,  and  draw- 
ing, but  experience  had  taught  me  that  the  elementary 
branches  of  spelling,  reading,  and  arithmetic  should  be- 
thoroughly  learned  at  an  early  age,  for  these  are  the  arts 
by  which  the  sciences  are  to  be  acquired.  We  can  no 
more  expect  a  thorough  education  without  them  than  we 
can  hope  to  erect  a  palace  without  a  foundation.  Our 
language  deserves  the  highest  degree  of  attention ;  and  to 
expect  children  to  become  acquainted  with  the  principles 
simply  by  hearing  others  talk,  is  ridiculous  and  absurd. 
A  child  may  learn  to  spell  correctly  before  its  powers  of 
thought  are,well  developed.  In  spelling,  children  should 
be  made  to  enunciate  and  pronounce  each  syllable  dis- 
tinctly; and  spelling-books  and  dictionaries  will  not  com- 


aio  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

plete  the  course.  Words,  sentences,  and  even  whole 
pages  should  be  dictated  to  them ;  the  words  spelled  in- 
correctly, underlined  by  the  teacher,  and  the  pupil  made 
to  correct  them. 

I  once  had  a  pupil  nineteen  years  old  who  had  taught 
two  years  before  being  placed  under  my  instruction.  She 
read  well  and  talked  well,  and  had  much  general  informa- 
tion, and  yet  could  not  write  two  lines  without  spelling 
incorrectly.  It  took  her  three  hours  to  write  a  letter  of 
three  pages,  with  the  dictionary  before  her,  to  which  she 
constantly  referred;  and,  after  all  that,  the  letter  could 
not  pass  the  ordeal  of  a  single  glance  from  a  practiced 
eye  without  the  detection  of  many  egregious  mistakes. 
This  was  the  result  of  her  having  learned  to  read  before 
she  could  spell. 

I  formed,  about  this  time,  an  intimate  friendship  with 
Mrs.  Henderson,  a  widowed  niece  of  Mrs.  Smith's  first 
husband,  one  of  the  most  genial,  pleasant  women  I  ever 
knew.  She  possessed  that  charming  candor  so  fascinating 
when  connected  with  elegant  manners  and  defined  taste; 
and  though  in  the  meridian  of  life,  and  twice  a  widow, 
she  had  not  lost  her  sympathy  with  the  young.  Ex- 
treme goodness  of  heart,  united  to  a  glowing  imagination, 
brought  a  large  circle  of  friends  and  acquaintances  under 
her  mystic  influence.  My  heart  was  completely  won  by 
the  pleasure  she  seemed  to  take  in  my  society.  I  often 
visited  her  home  in  Abingdon,  then  the  centre  of  attrac- 
tion for  nearly  all  the  agreeable  young  people  in  the  vil- 
lage. Her  family  consisted  of  herself  and  two  young 
cousins,  John  and  Rachel  Mitchell.  Mrs.  Henderson  had 
four  sons  at  school,  but  they  seldom  came  home  for  any 
length  of  time.  Her  pleasant  little  parlor  was  the  favored 
spot  of  many  joyous  reunions. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  211. 

Rachel  Mitchell,  scarce  seventeen  years  of  age,  was  a 
rare  example  of  genuine  enthusiasm  in  every  thing  good; 
but  this  enthusiasm  was  under  the  control  of  sound  judg- 
ment and  discretion.  Her  face  was  peculiarly  expressive 
of  cheerfulness  and  benevolence ;  calm,  modest,  so  full  of 
sweetness,  and,  above  all,  of  ingenuousness  and  truth, 
that,  upon  the  first  look,  you  felt  that  you  could  take 
that  countenance  on  trust,  there  were  no  misgivings 
about  it.  Her  brother  John  was  a  merry,  laughter- loving 
soul,  who  sought  to  render  others  as  cheerful  and  joyous 
as  himself. 

The  social  whist-table  was  frequently  introduced;  for 
whist,  nothing  more,  was  as  common  an  amusement  then, 
in  the  first  circles,  as  dancing.  Card-playing  was  in- 
dulged in  to  a  great  extent,  even  by  Church  members. 
I  recollect  the  trouble  the  Rev.  Mr.  Hawley  had  in 
Washington,  when  striving  to  banish  this  evil  from  among 
his  corn  nunicants.  One  lady,  a  leader  of  the  ton,  was 
willing  to  give  up  public  assemblies-,  decline  attending  the 
theater,  but  cards  she  could  not  forego.  "No,"  said  she, 
"I  would  rather  be  excluded  from  the  communion-table. 
I  do  believe,  if  I  were  dying,  the  shuffling  of  a  pack  of 
cards  would  revive  me." 

I  would  not  have  my  readers  understand  that  I  look 
back  upon  these  things  with  approbation ;  I  only  wish  to 
show  the  state  of  society  at  that  time.  The  morally  re- 
fined, who  would  have  shuddered  with  horror  at  the  bare 
idea  of  a  coarse  expression  or  the  introduction  of  any 
thing  low  and  common  into  their  charmed  circle,  would 
wear  away  the  hours  of  the  night,  even  until  three  in  the 
morning,  playing  whist  with  a  few  select  friends.  I  think 
now,  with  the  deepest  mortification  of  my  frequent  partici- 
pation in  this  evil;  and  yet,  I  thought  I  was  a  Christian. 


212  JULIA  A.  TEVJS. 

Alas!  how  difficult  it  is  to  know  one's  self.  I  never 
neglected  duty  at  any  time  for  pleasure  or  recreation,  and 
this  was  a  salve  to  my  conscience.  Having  fulfilled  the 
labors  of  the  day,  I  felt  at  perfect  liberty  to  waste  pre- 
cious hours  in  this  sinful  amusement  at  night.  We  never 
played  for  money;  but  how  great  a  delusion  to  suppose 
that  any  thing  upon  which  we  dare  not  ask  the  blessing 
of  God  is  innocent.  No  one  that  has  ever  indulged  in 
this  evil  practice,  but  knows  how  fascinating  it  becomes; 
and  dancing,  except  for  young  children,  and  in  the  open 
air  on  the  green,  is  not  less  dangerous  and  delusive. 
The  votaries  of  the  ball-room  become  so  passionately  fond 
of  it  as  to  make  it  almost  the  business  of  life.  I  thank 
my  Heavenly  Father  that  I  never  did  become  so  much 
infatuated  with,  either  as  to  forget  the  responsibility  I  was 
under  to  others;  nor  do  I  ever  remember  retiring  to  rest, 
no  matter  how  late,  or  how  much  fatigued,  without  offer- 
ing up  an  earnest  prayer  for  God's  blessing  and  forgive- 
ness. I  read  the  Scriptures  with  interest,  and  prayed 
fervently  to  be  enlightened  on  divine  subjects. 

I  never  saw  a  card-table  nor  attended  a  dancing  party 
in  Captain  Smith's  house.  Mrs.  Smith  was  not  a  member 
of  any  Church  when  I  first  knew  her.  She  preferred  the 
Methodist  Church  to  any  other;  but,  as  this  denomina- 
tion had  no  house  of  worship,  and  the  society  was  "  little 
and  unknown,"  she  united  with 'the  Presbyterians — the 
only  denomination  that  had  a  church  and  pastor. 

The  Rev.  Mr.  Bovell  was  a  pious  and  excellent  man, 
but  by  no  means  a  popular  preacher.  His  utterance  was 
slow  and  indistinct,  and  many  of  his  congregation  not 
decidedly  pious  felt  so  much  the  drowsy  influence  of 
his  monotonous  voice,  as  to  make  it  an  excuse  for  staying 
at  home  on  the  Sabbath. 


SIXTY  YEARS  JN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  213 

During  a  protracted  meeting  held  in  this  church  I  be- 
came acquainted  with  the  Rev.  Mr.  Gallagher,  from  Ten- 
nessee, and  a  Mr.  Glenn,  a  preacher  from  the  same 
neighborhood.  Mr.  Gallagher  was  a  perfect  Boanerges; 
no  one  could  go  to  sleep  under  his  preaching.  He  was 
one  of  the  most  eloquent  pulpit  orators  of  that  day,  and 
as  remarkable  for  his  indolent  habits  out  of  the  pulpit  as 
for  his  energy  in  it.  He  said  he  preferred  riding  on 
horseback  to  walking,  but  a  coach  to  either;  but  it  was 
far  the  most  agreeable  to  sit  quietly  in  his  arm-chair,  sur- 
rounded by  his  books  and  papers. 

Mr.  Gallagher  possessed  fine  literary  taste  and  a  highly 
cultivated  mind.  I  respected  and  admired  him,  not  only 
because  of  his  exalted  Christian  character,  bnt  because  he 
loved  and  spoke  so  kindly  of  my  oldest  brother  Quinn, 
who  had  once  been  his  pupil.  No  one  ever  accused  him 
of  neglecting  his  high  and  holy  calling  as  a  minister 
of  the  Gospel,  but  he  was  proverbially  improvident  in 
worldly  affairs.  He  received  from  his  parishioners,  who 
almost  idolized  him,  an  ample  salary,  but  somehow  he 
always  got  through  it  before  the  end  of  the  year. 
Upon  one  occasion  he  invited  a  friend  home  to  dine 
with  him,  without  consulting  his  wife,  who  whispered 
to  him  after  the  cloth  was  laid,  "We've  nothing  but 
potatoes  for  dinner."  "Bring  them  in,"  said  he,  cheer- 
fully; and  soon  the  table,  covered  with  a  snowy  cloth, 
was  garnished  with  a  large  dish  of  smoking  Irish 
potatoes,  and  the  usual  condiments — salt  and  butter. 
"Come  along,  Glenn,"  said  Mr.  Gallagher,  "come  and 
eat,  'tis  as  good  as  we  deserve — better  than  our  Lord 
and  Master  had."  I  will  not  vouch  for  the  authenticity 
of  this,  but  knowing  his  character  so  well,  it  certainly 
bears  the  impress  of  probability. 


JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

How  we  love  to  linger  over  the  most  trivial  records 
of  the  heart.  The  recollection  of  every  thing  con- 
nected with  my  stay  at  "The  Meadows,"  and  the  pleas- 
ant associations  there  formed,  quicken  even  now  my 
pulsations,  and  bring  the  light  of  other  days  to  my  faded 
eyes.  How  beautiful  does  this  brief  episode  appear! 

My  pupils  improved  satisfactorily,  and  my  patrons  were 
well  pleased.  We  had  an  examination,  at  the  close  of  the 
year,  in  our  own  little  school-room.  A  very  select 
audience,  composed  of  the  home  family  and  a  few  invited 
friends,  manifested  the  deepest  interest  in  all  that  was 
going  on.  'Twas  recherche  in  the  highest  degree.  We 
had  a  French  dialogue,  in  which  the  four  little  girls  chat- 
tered and  gesticulated  so  charmingly  a  la  Francaise,  that 
General  Preston  insisted  he  understood  it  quite  as  well  as 
if  it  had  been  English.  They  were  complimented  upon 
their  graceful  manners,  having  entirely  given  up  their 
courtesies  a  la  Fry.  They  passed  a  good  examination 
upon  the  elementary  branches;  their  drawings  were  pro- 
nounced neat  and  pretty,  their  music  agreeable;  and 
they  were  flattered  and  praised  until  every  thing  to  them 
was  couleur  de  rose  for  that  day. 

And  now  came  an  interval  of  entire  relaxation  during 
the  hot  weeks  of  July.  About  this  time  I  discovered 
that,  though  not  nearsighted,  I  could  not  see  things  dis- 
tinctly at  a  great  distance.  It  may  seem  strange  that  I 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  215 

had  not  known  it  before;  it  was  simply  because  I  was 
not  obliged  to  hold  my  book  close  to  my  eyes  like  a  very 
nearsighted  person.  My  strong  gray  eyes  could  not 
absorb  the  usual  amount  of  light  without  pain,  and  I 
could  see  better  in  the  morning  and  evening  twilight 
than  at  noon. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  of  a  July  day  I  was  walking 
with  some  friends  through  a  lovely  green  meadow.  Sud- 
denly we  were  all  startled  by  an  exclamation,  calling  our 
attention  to  some  object  in  the  deep  blue  heavens  above, 
which  all  pronounced  to  be  a  kite  sailing  majestically 
through  the  atmosphere;  sometimes  a  mere  speck,  and 
then  floating  nearer  to  view  sporting,  as  it  seemed,  with 
the  light  clouds,  its  long  and  graceful  tail  resembling  that 
of  a  comet.  I  listened  to  their  remarks,  and  vainly 
looked  in  the  direction  to  which  they  all  pointed ;  nought 
could  I  discover  but  the  piled-up  clouds,  bannered  in  the 
golden  rays  of  the  setting  sun. 

"Don't  you  see  it  now?"  said  Captain  Smith,  after  a 
long  explanation;  "it  is  the  largest  and  most  beautiful 
kite  I  ever  saw,  and  floats  so  majestically.  Look,  look!" 

"I  can  not  see  it,"  said  I,  sorrowfully. 

"You   can,   if  you  will;    it  is   downright   affectation. 

| 

Why  do  you  squint  so?  You  keep  your  eyes  half  shut; 
no  wonder  you  can't  see." 

"The  light  hurts  them,"  I  replied;  "I  have  not  the 
eyes  of  an  eagle." 

"Well,  they  look  as  strong  and  as  gray  as  an  eagle's, 
anyhow." 

I  felt  somewhat  troubled  at  first  by  the  discovery 
that  beautiful  visions  in  the  distance  were  not  for  me; 
but  I  was  gratified  to  know  that,  blessed  with  the  power 
of  seeing  clearly  what  was  going  on  around  me,  I  should 


216  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

not,  while  star  gazing,  stumble  over  gems  and  pearls  that 
might  be  strewn  in  my  pathway. 

I  found,  at  last,  that  I  could  not  distinguish  a  man 
from  a  donkey,  at  a  distance  at  which  others  could  recog- 
nize an  acquaintance;  could  not  read  the  signs  across  the 
street,  and  often  made  laughable  blunders  by  mistaking 
one  person  for  another.  Yet,  I  thought  I  did  not  need 
spectacles,  and  was  not  pedantic  enough  to  don  them  as 
a  coat  of  arms.  I  never  wore  them  until  many  years 
afterward,  when  I  found  myself  putting  my  hand  into 
a  plate  of  butter  for  a  plate  of  cheese.  I  am  now  an 
old  woman,  and  put  aside  my  spectacles  when  I  wish  to 
read  or  write,  and  can  do  the  finest  needlework  without 
them — have  never  changed  the  number  of  the  glasses  I 
wore  forty  years  ago.  I  might  not  have  found  it  neces- 
sary to  wear  glasses  had  not  my  vocation  as  a  teacher 
required  a  minute  examination  into  the  far-off  corners  of 
a  large  school-room,  that  I  might  ascertain  what  the  girls 
were  doing  so  diligently  when  they  were  doing  nothing. 

Days  and  weeks  passed  swiftly  by.  August,  1822, 
came,  and  my  young  friend,  Rachel  Mitchell,  was  to  be 
married  to  Mr.  Litchfield,  a  resident  of  Abingdon. 
Rachel  was  but  eighteen,  yet  she  had  not  taken  this 
matter  in  hand  unadvisedly;  it  was  the  result  of  time, 
reflection,  and  the  approbation  of  her  friends.  Happy 
as  a  Spring  bird,  surrounded  by  an  atmosphere  of  pure 
affection,  she  naturally  felt  timid  about  changing  her  rela- 
tions in  life.  I  loved  her  devotedly,  and  was  pleased 
and  satisfied  with  her  choice. 

Mr.  Litchfield  was  dignified,  and  possessed  as  much 
ease  of  manner  as  a  sensible  man  need  have  or  a  rational 
woman  desire.  The  heart  generally  chooses  wisely  when 
left  to  follow  its  natural  impulses;  and  that  it  was  so  in 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  217 

this  case,  has  been  proved  by  a  long  life  of  wedded  hap- 
piness. I  was  bridesmaid,  and  watched  with  interest  the 
timid,  but  perfect  confidence  manifested  by  my  young 
friend  in  the  object  of  her  choice.  I  could  but  note  the 
sober  change  of  manner  which  told  how  she  dreaded  to 
step  from  young  and  irresponsible  girlhood  into  a  posi- 
tion new  and  untried.  A  serious  thoughtfulness,  a  sub- 
dued tone  of  voice,  marked  the  coming  matron;  yet 
there  was  no  doubt,  no  mistrust  as  to  the  future.  A 
select  company  of  friends  was  present  to  witness  the  cere- 
mony. The  bride,  to  my  eye,  was  the  very  ideal  of 
innocence  and  loveliness;  the  bridegroom,  a  model  of  dig- 
nified manhood,  whom  it  seemed  natural  to  respect, 
esteem,  and  love.  More  than  forty  years  have  since 
elapsed — noble  sons  and  lovely  daughters  have  grown 
up,  like  olive  plants,  around  their  table,  and  I  have  had 
the  pleasure  of  educating  two  of  her  daughters,  whose 
useful  lives  will  prove  a  crown  of  rejoicing  in  eternity. 
Two  of  her  brother's  daughters  have  also  been  sent 
from  Abingdon  to  the  far  West  to  be  educated  under 
my  care. 

Not  many  months  passed  after  Rachel's  marriage  and 
removal  to  hef  own  home,  when  Mrs.  Henderson  began 
to  feel  that  it  was  not  "good  to  be  alone,"  and  decided 
to  accept  the  offered  hand  of  Mr.  Branch,  a  gentleman 
who,  though  her  junior  in  years,  was  not  younger  in 
heart  and  feeling.  Mrs.  Henderson  was  in  the  full  fresh- 
ness of  blooming  womanhood  when  she  took  unto  her- 
self a  third  husband.  I  was  a  second  time  selected  as 
bridesmaid  in  that  family.  The  marriage  was  to  be 
strictly  private,  and,  for  once,  Madam  Rumor  failed  to 
get  an  inkling  of  the  approaching  wedding. 

The  day  before  the  morning  upon  which  the  marriage 


2i8  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

was  to  take  place,  one  of  Mrs.  Smith's  grand  dinner- 
parties came  off,  at  which  Mrs.  Henderson  declined  ap- 
pearing, though  Mrs.  Smith  seemed  scarcely  willing  or 
able  to  do  without  her.  She  finally  consented  to  come, 
provided  Captain  Smith  would  make  no  allusion  to  her 
intended  marriage.  He  faithfully  promised  every  thing 
required  of  him.  The  company  assembled;  Mrs.  Hen- 
derson was,  as  usual,  the  life  of  the  party — gay,  witty, 
and  good-humored.  The  brilliancy  of  her  conversation 
attracted  more  than  usual  attention;  yet  I  could  see  an 
occasional  shadow  flit  across  her  face  as  she  cast  furtively 
toward  Captain  Smith  a  deprecating  and  uneasy  glance 
when  she  caught  his  eye.  Dinner  was  nearly  over;  the 
dessert  and  wines  were  on  the  table,  Avhen  we  were  all 
electrified  by  Captain  Smith's  calling  out  to  Mrs.  Hen- 
derson: "Well,  Rachel,  do  you  intend  to  surprise  your 
friends  by  changing  your  name  to-morrow  morning?  Do 
you  all  know  that  she  is  to  be  married?" 

"Why,  Captain  Smith,  how  can  you?" 

Her  blushing  face  and  almost  audibly  beating  heart 
would  have  betrayed  her  had  not  the  attention  of  every 
one  been  attracted  by  the  Captain's  merry  laugh,  and 
the  blank  expression  of  Mrs.  Smith's  face. 

"There,  now,  I  told  you  nobody  would  believe  it, — 
neither  do  I." 

Mrs.  Henderson  was  relieved,  and  joined  in  the  gen- 
eral laugh.  Every  body  looked  upon  it  as  a  ruse  of  Cap- 
tain Smith  to  produce  a  little  excitement  and  resuscitate 
the  flagging  conversation;  and  there  was  as  much  aston- 
ishment the  next  morning,  at  the  announcement  of  the 
marriage  of  Mr.  Branch  to  Mrs.  Henderson,  as  if  it  had 
never  been  mentioned. 

How  strangely  some  apparently  unimportant  incidents 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  219 

fix  themselves  upon  the  mind  and  heart, — intended,  it 
sometimes  seems,  to  foreshadow  coming  events!  The 
first  time  I  ever  heard  the  hymn,  "He  dies,  the  friend 
of  sinners  dies,"  was  during  a  little  excursion  with  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Branch,  immediately  after  their  marriage.  Mr. 
Branch  was  on  his  way  to  Richmond,  and  parted  with  us 
at  a  retired  country  place.  We  were  sitting  just  where 
he  left  us,  in  a  little  vine-covered  porch.  Her  heart  was 
doubtless  sad,  and  mine  sympathetic,  when  she  com- 
menced singing  that  sweet  hymn,  and  her  charming  voice 
sounded  like  the  music  of  heaven  lingering  on  the  ear; 
and  as  she  uttered,  "Lo!  Salem's  daughters  weep 
around,"  I  could  not  restrain  my  tears.  Visions  of  the 
blessed  Savior,  who  had  suffered  so  much  for  me,  and 
whose  burden  of  grief  had  weighed  so  little  on  my  ungrate- 
ful heart,  rose  up  before  me  in  condemnation,  and  I  felt 
like  Jacob  when  he  vowed  a  vow,  saying,  "If  God  will 
be  with  me,  and  keep  me  in  the  way  that  I  go,  then 
shall  the  Lord  be  my  God."  I  had  thought  all  along 
that  I  was  striving  to  be  a  Christian ;  but  I  felt,  now  an 
aching  void,  which  could  not  be  filled  without  a  deeper 
knowledge  of  divine  things  —  a  something  I  had  not 
yet  known. 

Soon  after  this  I  was  invited  to  act  as  bridesmaid  for 
Mrs.  Nancy  Trigg,  a  widowed  sister-in-law  of  Mrs.  Smith, 
whom  I  had  learned  to  love  and  appreciate  during  my 
residence  in  Wytheville.  The  wedding  was  to  take  place 
during  the  Christmas  holidays,  and  was  to  be  followed  by 
grand  festivities,  in  which,  according  to  the  fashion  of  the 
day,  dancing  was  to  be  the  chief  feature.  I  found  that 
the  gayeties  in  which  I  should  be  involved  would  dissi- 
pate my  serious  feelings.  I  hesitated,  tried  to  beg  off; 
pleaded  Mrs.  Smith's  anxiety  to  have  me  remain  and 


220  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

attend  the  quarterly-meeting,  and  her  desire  that  I  should 
become  acquainted  with  some  pious  friends  who  were  to 
be  her  guests.  My  mother,  though  she  did  not  posi- 
tively object,  looked  sad  at  the  idea  of  my  being  exposed 
at  this  inclement  season.  She  also  wished  me  to  attend 
the  meeting  in  prospect;  yet  with  her  ever  quiet  and 
self-denying  manner,  indulgently  said,  "Go,  if  you  think 
best."  It  was  the  first  time  we  had  been  parted  since 
our  reunion  in  Wythe.  I  afterward  realized  that  it  was 
not  best  to  choose  pleasure  instead  of  duty.  Strange 
that  the  visible  but  transient  things  of  time  should  have 
more  influence  over  the  human  heart  than  the  unseen  but 
eternal  realities  of  a  future  world ! 

We  started  for  Wythe  long  before  daylight.  It  was 
clear  and  cold,  and  the  moonlight  lay  like  a  blessing  upon 
the  sleeping  inhabitants,  of  whom  I  would  gladly  have 
been  one;  for  I  was  not  quite  satisfied  with  the  choice  I 
had  made.  The  wind  whistled  mournfully  through  the 
ice-clad  branches  of  the  trees,  which  stood  like  grim  sen- 
tinels on  the  outskirts  of  the  town.  With  these  dreary 
surroundings,  we  had  the  prospect  of  a  two  days'  journey 
over  the  roughest  of  roads;  but  we  were  made  of  sterner 
stuff  than  to  dread  cold  or  personal  inconvenience.  My 
own  courage  was  strengthened  by  the  desire  of  looking 
once  more  upon  the  faces  of  familiar  friends.  We  trav- 
eled all  day,  through  a  violent  snow-storm,  over  frozen 
ground  and  ice-bound  torrents,  stopping  only  twice  to 
change  horses,  ere  we  reached  the  old  stone  tavern  Avhere 
we  were  to  tarry  for  the  night.  It  was  near  ten  o'clock, 
the  family  were  all  in  bed;  one  little  tallow  candle  burned 
in  the  window,  casting  a  feeble  light  upon  the  pathway 
that  led  to  the  door  standing  wide  open  for  the  expected 
stage  passengers. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  221 

The  cheerlessness  of  the  room  we  entered  was  made 
visible  by  the  flickering  rays  of  a  few  expiring  embers. 
In  the  middle  of  the  apartment  was  a  square  table,  upon 
which  was  heaped  in  pewter  dishes,  cold  beef,  fat  pork, 
cabbage,  potatoes,  with  a  large  dish  of  cucumber  pickles. 
A  brown  jug  of  milk  and  a  show  of  tea-cups  and  saucers 
intimated  arrangements  for  tea  or  coffee.  My  head  ached 
so  violently  that  I  turned  from  the  supper-table  with  dis- 
gust, and  stepped  into  an  adjoining  room  in  search  of 
fire  and  some  place  upon  which  to  rest  my  weary  limbs. 
I  threw  myself  upon  what  I  supposed  to  be  an  empty 
bed,  and  in  so  doing  awakened  squalling  children.  Rising 
hastily,  and  turning  toward  another,  I  saw  the  vision  of 
a  red  flannel  night -cap  popping  from  under  the  bed- 
clothes, which  so  frightened  me  that  I  flew  to  the  other 
side  of  the  room,  and  sunk  despairingly  into  an  old  arm- 
chair, where  I  remained  until  my  companions  had  supped, 
after  which  we  were  shown  up -stairs  into  a  cold  room. 
The  feather-bed,  which  I  immediately  appropriated,  was 
made  up  like  a  grave,  and  surmounted  by  two  little  pil- 
lows, either  of  which  I  might  have  put  into  my  pocket, 
and  both  of  which  I  lost  somewhere  in  the  recesses  of 
the  bed  during  the  night. 

My  companions  were  soon  asleep;  but  I  suffered  too 
intensely  to  lose  consciousness  until  about  an  hour  before 
we  were  called  up  to  resume  our  journey,  my  mind 
actively  engaged  all  the  while  in  repentant  thoughts  and 
ardent  wishes  that  I  had  not  thus  tempted  danger;  cold 
and  sickness  rendered  me  any  thing  but  a  pleasant  com- 
pagnon  de  voyage.  The  second  day  was  as  uncomfortable 
as  the  first.  My  languor  and  headache  continued  until 
we  reached  our  destination,  where  we  were  ushered  into 
the  warm  and  cozy  parlor  of  Mrs.  Trigg.  There  we 

IS 


222  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

found  bright  faces  awaiting  us,  and  were  received  with 
overflowing  joy  and  cordial  greetings. 

Mrs.  Smythe  was  there,  and  claimed  me  for  her  guest, 
saying,  "This  is  kind  in  you  to  come  so  great  a  distance 
to  see  your  old  friends.  You  must  stay  with  me ;  for  I 
have  much  to  ask  and  to  tell,  which  can  not  all  be 
thought  of  at  once."  A  night  of  sound  sleep  in  my  old 
room  made  me  quite  myself  again ;  and,  rising  early,  I 
took  my  station  at  the  window,  to  look  out  upon  old 
familiar  objects.  The  snow-storm  was  over,  and  left  no 
trace  in  the  calm,  blue  sky;  but  the  snow  lay  like  a  white 
robe  of  unsullied  purity  upon  the  roof-tops,  and  almost 
untrodden  upon  the  streets.  The  wintery  clouds  were 
alternately  gathering  and-  breaking  as  they  whirled  around 
the  "keen,  sky- cleaving  mountain,"  whose  icy  spires  of 
sun-like  radiance  announced  the  coming  day. 

Whoever  has  not  seen  Winter  in  its  reposing  beauty 
among  the  mountains  of  this  country  knows  nothing  of 
its  pictorial  wealth,  —  silent  images  of  eternity,  awfully 
magnificent,  yet  thrillingly  beautiful, — 

"  Palaces  where  Nature  thrones 
Sublimity  in  icy  halls." 

I  watched  the  rising  sun  as  it  turned  the  snow  and 
sleet  into  myriads  of  sparkling  gems,  and  the  ice-clad 
trees  whose  nodding  tops  were  thickly  hung  with  dia- 
monds, and, 

"Nature  breathed  from  every  part 
The  rapture  of  her  mighty  heart." 

My  soul  was  filled  with  emotions  of  gratitude  to  God, 
who  had  made  this  world  so  beautiful  in  all  its  changing 
seasons.  An  involuntary  prayer  of  thanksgiving  arose 
from  my  lips  to  the  great  Giver  of  all  good.  How  natu- 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  223 

ral  the  tendency  to  adore  him  in  all  that  is  good  and 
beautiful. 

The  forenoon  was  agreeably  occupied.  Friends  were 
to  be  met  from  every  direction.  My  old  pupils  clustered 
so  fondly  around  me  that  I  felt  quite  at  home.  No  birds 
singing  in  the  sunshine  ever  made  sweeter  music  to  my 
heart  than  their  young  voices ;  and,  though  they  all  talked 
at  once,  there  was  perfect  harmony.  A  thousand  things 
were  to  be  said  of  what  had  taken  place  since  we  parted ; 
many  plans  were  proposed  and  amusements  projected  be- 
fore they  could  think  of  letting  me  go  back  to  Abingdon. 

The  afternoon  was  spent  in  preparing  for  the  wedding 
party  that  night.  The  eventful  hour  arrived.  All  the 
young  men  of  the  village,  a  crowd  of  fair  girls,  blushing 
at  the  thought  of  their  own  loveliness,  and  a  goodly  num- 
ber of  blooming  matrons,  accompanied  by  their  self- 
satisfied  spouses,  circled  through  the  brilliantly  lighted 
apartments.  Amid  the  crowd  none  looked  more  attract- 
ive than  the  bride,  none  happier  than  the  bridegroom. 
An  expression  of  generous  feeling  and  open  sincerity  in 
his  countenance  invited  confidence  and  respect.  Her 
gentle,  down-cast  eyes  and  fresh  complexion  made  her 
look  quite  youthful  as,  receiving  the  congratulations  of 
friends,  she  "blushed  in  crimson  touched  with  pale." 
No  one  could  have  regarded  the  scene  without  a  pervad- 
ing sentiment  of  pleasure  at  thus  witnessing  the  perfection 
of  social  happiness  combined  with  the  prospect  of  domes- 
tic felicity  in  store  for  the  newly-married  pair. 

The  ceremony  being  over,  dancing  commenced  imme- 
diately, and  was  kept  up  till  beyond  the  midnight  hour. 
I  was  a  mere  looker-on ;  for,  though  I  had  been  passion- 
ately fond  of  dancing,  my  heart  was  not  in  it  now.  The 
room,  as  if  some  fairy  palace  lighted  up,  the  gay  com- 


224  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

pany  and  splendid  supper,  all  failed  to  interest  me.  My 
thoughts  reverted  to  the  last  time  I  had  danced  in  this 
very  room.  Eighteen  months  had  elapsed  and  I  was  here 
again,  but  with  what  different  feelings.  I  shuddered  at 
the  bare  idea  of  ever  again  participating  in  an  amusement 
so  light  and  trifling.  I  had  withdrawn  to  rather  an  ob- 
scure corner,  with  some  married  ladies,  when  a  gentleman 
acquaintance,  on  the  wrong  side  of  forty,  with  whom  I 
had  often  danced,  came  and  asked  my  hand  for  the  next 
cotillion.  I  declined. 

"What,"  said  he,  with  surprise,  "have  you  given  up 
dancing?  I  have  not  seen  you  on  the  floor  this  evening." 

"Yes,"  I  replied,    "I  never  expect  to  dance  again." 

"Nor  will  I,  for  to-night,"  he  said,  "if  I  may  be 
allowed  to  join  this  company." 

After  conversing  with  us  for  a  while,  he  suddenly 
turned  around  and  looked  upon  the  gay  and  giddy  throng 
passing  and  repassing. 

"How  supremely  ridiculous,"  he  exclaimed,  "those 
men  and  women  appear.  I  never  saw  it  in  this  light 
before.  I  shall  follow  your  example,  my  friend." 

A  few  intervening  days  and  I  was  on  my  way  back  to 
Abingdon.  Having  left  all  my  gay  companions  behind, 
and  there  being  no  one  in  the  stage-coach  whom  I  knew, 
I  had  full  time  for  reflection.  Painful  sensations  oppressed 
me.  How  my  hopes  and  plans  and  wishes  had  altered 
since  I  first  went  to  reside  in  Wythe.  I  had  left  behind 
me  that  delightful  period  of  youth  when  hope  walks  by 
our  side,  and  with  her  delicate  pencil  touches  every  thing 
with  the  hues  of  heaven.  With  me  this  period  had  been 
an  unusually  bright  one.  It  was  now  like  a  dream  that 
I  had  ever  looked  forward  to  substantial  happiness  in  this 
world,  where,  as  Petrarch  says,  "Nothing  lasts  but  tears." 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  225 

I  began  to  realize  the  fact  that  "he  builds  too  low  who 
builds  beneath  the  skies." 

My  nature  was  essentially  unfitted  for  fashionable  soci- 
ety. I  went  into  it  because  it  was  easier  to  go  than  to 
refuse  the  kindness  that  forced  on  me  those  uncongenial 
amusements.  I  had  often  prayed  to  be  saved  from  temp- 
tation without,  perhaps,  forming  any  resolution  to  resist 
it.  From  early  childhood  I  had  desired  to  be  a  Christian. 
Could  I  expect  that  God  would  do  all  this  for  me  when 
I  had  never  even  formed  a  determination  to  resist  evil? 
Did  I  really  desire  to  serve  God?  To  serve  God,  what  a 
thought!  Now,  for  the  first  time,  I  realized  its  import. 
If  I  do  serve  God  I  can  not  serve  the  world.  What  is  it 
to  serve  the  world,  and  what  will  be  its  reward?  Is  it  to 
follow  its  fashions,  to  love  its  spirit  of  levity  and  vanity, 
to  seek  its  pleasures,  and  forgetting  God,  be  the  ungrate- 
ful recipient  of  all  his  mercies?  The  reward  will  only  be 
"the  pleasures  of  sin  for  a  season,"  and  then  the  future, 
the  dark,  unending  future. 


226  JULIA  A,  TEVIS. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

I  REACHED  my  mother's  home  late  at  night;  a  shadow 
had  fallen  upon  that  hearthstone  during  my  absence. 
The  dear  sister,  who  had  been  my  companion  from  child- 
hood, had  been  ill,  and  was  still  so  great  a  sufferer  that 
we  feared  her  health  was  permanently  impaired.  This 
had  prevented  their  enjoying  the  Christmas  holidays  and 
increased  my  regret  at  being  absent. 

Mrs.  Smith  had  much  to  tell  me  about  the  quarterly 
meeting,  and  the  interesting  religious  persons  with  whom 
she  had  become  acquainted.  The  presiding  elder  had 
tarried  with  them  during  the  meeting. 

"I  wished  for  you  often,"  said  she,  "and  I  am  not 
sorry  to  hear  that  you  had  a  rough  journey,  and  that 
you  suffered  inconvenience  from  your  trip." 

"This  Avill  teach  you,"  she  added,  pleasantly,  "to 
obey  God  rather  than  man." 

All  things  conspired  to  deepen  conviction  in  my  natur- 
ally susceptible  heart  and  to  increase  thoughtfulness. .  The 
subject  of  my  soul's  eternal  interest  was  constantly  before 
me,  and  I  can  never  be  sufficiently  thankful  to  my  Heav- 
enly Father  that  the  circumstances  by  which  I  was  then 
surrounded  were  favorable  to  the  growth  of  piety.  In- 
clined to  be  romantic,  had  I  not  been  compelled  to  steady 
exertion,  my  love  of  novelty  might  have  fascinated  and 
drawn  me  from  the  line  of  duty.  I  have  thanked  God 
a  thousand  times  that  I  was  not  permitted  to  choose  my 
own  way,  and  that  I  was  compelled  to  lead  an  active  life. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  227 

I  have  never  seen  the  time  when  I  had  "nothing  to  dp." 
Had  it  been  otherwise,  I  might  now  be  compelled  to  look 
back  upon  the  wreck  of  former  years,  affections  wasted, 
pleasures  fled,  and  hopes  numbered  with  the  dead. 

My  sister  gave  up  her  school  on  account  of  her  feeble 
health,  and  spent  much  time  with  me  at  "The  Meadows." 
The  kindness  of  Mrs.  Smith,  at  this  time,  increased  my 
affection  for  her  tenfold.  I  never  think  of  the  virtues  of 
this  excellent  woman  without  a  swelling  heart  and  tearful 
eyes.  The  very  atmosphere  around  her  breathed  peace 
and  tenderness.  Summer  days  pass,  earth's  blossoms 
fade,  but  love,  founded  on  esteem  and  gratitude,  can 
never  die. 

The  first  Methodist  church  in  Abingdon  was  erected 
in  the  Spring  of  1823,  a  comfortable  frame  building,  spa- 
cious enough,  as  it  then  appeared,  but  which  seemed 
shrunken  almost  to  insignificance  when  I  saw  it  after  an 
absence  of  more  than  twenty  years.  Previously  to  my  at- 
tending the  meetings  in  Abingdon,  I  had  not  been  inside 
a  Methodist  church  more  than  two  or  three  times  in  my 
life.  Divine  service  was  regularly  held  here  by  the  trav- 
eling preachers  of  the  circuit,  the  society  not  being  rich 
enough  to  support  a  stationed  preacher.  The  member- 
ship increased  rapidly.  Prayer-meetings,  class-meetings, 
and  band-meetings  were  formed  and  regularly  kept  up. 
These  Mrs.  Smith  and  I  frequently  attended,  though  she 
was  a  Presbyterian. 

By  special  invitation  the  traveling  Methodist  preachers 
often  spent  their  "rest-days"  at  "The  Meadows;"  a  rest 
indeed.  One  of  the  younger  preachers,  a  modest  and 
very  pious  man,  well  known  for  his  faithful  devotion  to 
the  cause  of  Christ,  was  urged  to  come  and  spend  a  few 
days  in  the  "prophet's  room."  He  declined  the  invita- 


2zS  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

tion,  because  of  his  threadbare  clothes.  The  knees  of 
his  pantaloons  bore  evident  marks  of  frequent  prostra- 
tions before  the  throne  of  grace.  His  humility  and 
diffidence  were  touching  and  beautiful — "he  should  like 
to  go,  but  could  not;  no,  he  would  tarry  with  an  humble 
brother  by  the  wayside."  This  humble  brother,  Wini- 
fred, was  as  famous  for  his  hospitality  and  his  love  of  the 
Christian  Church,  particularly  the  Methodist,  as  were  the 
primitive  disciples.  A  complete  new  suit  soon  found  its 
way  privately  into  the  young  brother's  saddle-bags;  he 
came,  and  mutual  pleasure  was  felt.  No  wonder  that  the 
blessing  of  God  rested  upon  such  a  household ! 

We  were  sitting  one  evening  conversing  upon  the 
subject  of  the  great  revival  that  had  occurred  in  the 
Methodist  Church  during  the  last  two  years,  and  the 
changed  aspect  of  things,  when  Mrs.  Smith,  after  prais- 
ing enthusiastically  the  new  presiding  elder  from  Ken- 
tucky, who  had  been  a  guest  in  their  house  during  the 
Christmas  meeting,  and  who  seemed  to  have  inspired  her 
with  a  degree  of  reverence  that  left  her  scarcely  any 
thing  else  to  talk  of,  exclaimed — 

"I. wish  you  could  see  him  and  hear  him  pray." 

"How  does  he  look?"  I  asked. 

"Tall,  dignified,  fine  looking,  but  by  no  means  hand- 
some; yet  there  is  so  much  character,  so  much  real 
worth  expressed  in  his  face,  that  you  would  never  remark 
his  prominent  nose  and  wide  mouth,  except  as  indicative 
of  intellect." 

"But  he  must  look  odd  in  one  of  those  Methodist 
coats  r 

"No,  he  does  not;  every  thing  he  wears  is  becoming; 
it  could  not  be  otherwise,  with  a  man  upon  whose  brow 
is  written  the  simplicity  of  a  Christian." 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  229 

"Well,  I  hope  I  shall  have  an  opportunity  of  seeing 
this  paragon  of  yours,  but  I  warn  you,  I  almost  feel 
prejudiced  against  him,  when  I  remember  the  Scripture 
declaration,  'Wo  unto  those  of  whom  all  men  speak 
well.'" 

"I  do  not  know  that  everybody  does  speak  well 
of  him — I  am  sure  that  sinners  must  feel  exceedingly 
uncomfortable  under  his  searching  sermons.  I  am  told 
that  quite  a  number  thought  the  first  sermon  he 
preached  at  the  Court-house  powerfully  severe,  unveiling 
as  he  did  the  iniquity  of  the  age  with  firm  hand,  and 
making  them  see  themselves  as  God  sees  them." 

We  were  interrupted  by  the  entrance  of  Captain 
Smith,  just  from  town,  who  exclaimed — 

"Polly,  have  another  roll  of  blankets  put  on  Tevis's 
bed;  he  will  be  here  to-night  after  preaching." 

"Indeed!  I  am  truly  glad;  we  were  just  speaking  of 
him,  and  I  am  gratified  at  so  soon  having  an  opportu- 
nity of  introducing  him  to  our  young  friend.  This  is 
his  rest  week;  he  will  spend  it  with  us,  I  hope." 

I  was  conscious  of  a  desire  to  see  the  man  whose  won- 
der-working energy  and  pious  efforts  had  been  crowned 
with  almost  unexampled  success  throughout  the  district 
over  which  he  had  for  two  years  presided. 

The  history  of  these  two  years  has  been  so  often 
spoken  of,  connected,  as  it  was,  with  many  co-workers 
whose  biographies  have  been  published,  as  to  make  it 
unnecessary  for  me  to  enlarge  upon  the  subject.  It 
does  present  a  scene  of  benevolent  exertions,  telling  upon 
the  destiny  of  thousands;  exhibiting  in  a  strong  light 
an  earnest  devotion  to  God  and  a  love  for  precious  souls 
by  the  humble,  earnest,  pious,  and  faithful  Methodist 
preachers  of  that  day — the  results  displaying  the  power 


230  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

and  goodness  of  that  merciful  and  gracious  Redeemer,  of 
whom  they  were  the  honored  instruments.  Those  early 
itinerant  preachers,  inspired  with  zeal,  and  clothed  with 
the  armor  of  righteousness,  sought  not  their  own  but  the 
glory  of  God.  They  were,  doubtless,  raised  up  by  an 
all-wise  and  gracious  Providence,  in  pity  for  those  wan- 
dering sheep  scattered  over  the  wilds  of  the  far  West,  as 
well  as  for  a  more  settled  and  prosperous  people,  who 
had  strangely  slighted  the  copious  overflowings  of  divine 
love.  Such  preachers  of  the  Gospel  came  as  instructors, 
and  shed  a  reproving  light  upon  the  corruptions  of  a 
time-serving  world,  bearing  the  high  credentials  of  mes- 
sengers from  heaven;  and  as  examples  of  prayer  and 
faith  transmitted  to  the  Church,  not  for  admiration  only, 
but  for  encouragement  and  invitation.  Such  only  can 
arouse  sinners  from  their  stupor  and  bring  them  into  the 
fold  of  Christ.  Such  honest  embassadors  of  the  Savior 
are  blessings  to  the  world. 

The  guest  came,  and  I  was  introduced  to  him,  feel- 
ing a  disposition  to  criticise  his  appearance  and  scruti- 
nize closely  his  manners  and  conversation.  There  was 
nothing,  however,  to  criticize  but  his  dish-shaped  coat 
and  straight  collar.  I  dared  to  think  these  pretentious; 
but  a  second  glance  at  the  quiet  face,  radiant  with  peace, 
hope,  and  faith,  resulting,  doubtless,  from  an  inward  and 
spiritual  grace — a  confidence  which  seemed  to  be  that  of 
reposing  strength,  changed  my  opinion — for  in  those 
dark  grey  eyes  slumbered  a  world  of  energy.  His  voice 
was  clear  and  distinct;  his  movements  calm,  but  always 
prompt,  decisive,  and  rapid;  directed,  at  the  same  time, 
with  discretion.  During  his  rest  week  in  this  part  of  the 
Holston  District,  which  embraced  a  circuit  of  nine 
hundred  miles,  he  found  a  welcome  retreat  at  "The 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  231 

Meadows,"  where  he  might  be  refreshed  after  the  toils 
of  traveling  over  bad  roads  and  mountain  passes.  His 
room,  in  a  quiet  part  of  the  hospitable  mansion,  afforded 
a  secluded  sanctuary  for  private  devotion ;  while,  in  his 
friendship  and  society  his  worthy  entertainers  felt  them- 
selves recompensed  for  all  their  kind  offices  and  concern 
on  his  behalf,  and  that  the  prayers  and  presence  of  God's 
ministers  brought  ample  blessings  to  the  household. 

The  week  passed  away,  and  the  wayfaring  man  of 
God  had  gone ;  but  not  so  the  remembrance  of  his  fervent 
prayers  and  pious  conversation.  Mrs.  Smith  had  often 
expressed  her  fears  that  living  out  of  the  Church,  as  she 
did,  was  not  in  keeping  with  her  duty  to  herself  and  her 
family,  though  she  had  always  been  a  strict  attendant  on 
the  services  of  the  Presbyterian  Church,  in  which  she  had 
been  brought  up.  She  had  lived  in  the  world  without 
partaking  much  of  its  spirit,  and  now  she  was  almost 
persuaded  to  become  a  Methodist.  Her  husband  opposed 
it  steadily,  but  not  violently.  The  law  of  rigid  simplicity, 
which  reigned  at  this  time  so  pre-eminently  among  the 
Methodists,  was  not  according  to  his  taste;  and  he  feared 
the  influence  of  religion  in  earnest,  and  that  a  change  in 
his  household  arrangements,  superinduced  by  these  rigid 
people  who  were  turning  the  world  upside  down,  might 
cast  a  shadow  over  his  daughter's  entrance  into  the  gay 
world,  and  throw  her  too  much  out  of  its  dress-circle. 
Thus  he  ridiculed  the  precision  of  its  members  and  their 
particular  exclusiveness,  which  did  in  reality  make  a 
dividing  line  between  them  and  other  religious  sects,  as 
well  as  the  outer  world. 

I  do  not  intend  to  affirm  that  Mrs.  Smith's  sense  of 
duty  was  at  all  affected  by  the  ridiculous  light  in  which 
Captain  Smith  placed  straight  coats,  broad-brimmed  hats, 


232  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

plain  bonnets,  and  Quaker  simplicity — not  at  all.  She 
was  decidedly  pious,  without  any  subserviency  to  worldly 
creeds;  but  she  finally  decided  to  join  the  Presbyterians, 
whose  right-heartedness  before  God  none  ever  questioned, 
and  between  whom  and  the  Methodists  of  Abingdon 
there  was  a  constant  interchange  of  friendly  Christian 
courtesies.  It  is  a  well-known  fact  that,  in  proportion 
as  divine  grace  abounds  in  any  Church,  so  does  that 
charity  which  is  but  another  name  for  God's  love  abound 
in  the  heart.  Mrs.  Smith  lived  and  died  a  worthy  mem- 
ber of  the  Church  she  had  chosen,  with  sympathies 
widening  and  deepening  for  all  other  denominations. 
She  is  now  a  bright  jewel  in  the  Redeemer's  crown,  at 
whose  feet  she  worshiped  while  a  pilgrim  on  earth. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  233 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

EARLY  in  the  Summer  my  mother,  having  received 
pressing  invitations  from  her  friends  in  Kentucky  to 
visit  them,  resolved  to  break  up  housekeeping  and  return 
with  her  little  family  to  the  home  of  her  youth,  leaving 
to  the  future  whether  she  would  settle  permanently  in 
Kentucky.  Her  youngest  brother  lived  at  the  old  home- 
stead, and  many  of  her  nearest  relatives  in  the  immediate 
vicinity;  indeed,  her  family  connections,  as  well  as  those 
of  my  father,  were  so  numerous  that  she  thought  it  would 
be  delightful  to  spend  a  year  or  more  in  visiting,  while  I 
remained  to  finish  my  engagement  at  Captain  Smith's. 
As  there  was  no  expectation  of  her  ever  returning  to 
Abingdon  she  turned  all  her  effects  into  money,  and 
soon  after  left  in  a  comfortable  private  conveyance,  jour- 
neying by  the  old  Wilderness  road.  My  heart  was  soon 
gladdened  by  the  reception  of  a  letter  announcing  their 
safe  arrival  among  friends  and  relatives,  who  gave  them  a 
warm  welcome. 

Meantime  my  little  school  held  on  the  even  tenor  of 
its  way.  My  loving,  industrious  pupils  improved  so 
rapidly  as  to  make  me  feel  that  I  was  doing  and  receiv- 
ing good;  and  these  would  have  been  halcyon  days, 
indeed,  if  I  had  been  perfectly  satisfied  with  myself.  I 
felt  an  intense  yearning  after  something  that  would  satisfy 
the  earnest  longing  of  my  soul  for  higher  attainments  in 
a  Christian  life.  Clouds  of  heaviness,  and  sometimes  of 
darkness,  rested  upon  me.  I  was  assured,  and  I  do  riot 


234  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

deem  it  presumptuous  to  express  it,  that  my  Heavenly 
Father  had  led  me  onward  by  his  gracious  providence  up 
to  the  present  time,  and  I  could  but  hope  he  was  prepar- 
ing me  for  future  and  more  extensive  usefulness — I  knew 
not  when,  how,  or  where.  I  read  the  Bible  much;  and 
prayed  often;  and  cheerfully  relinquished  those  frivolous 
amusements  into  which  I  had  been  drawn,  more  by  cir- 
cumstances than  taste — never  having  been  fully  satisfied 
that  they  were  in  keeping  with  the  wants  of  an  intellect- 
ual nature;  yet  I  still  continued  to  attend  cotilljon  par- 
ties, and  occasionally  a  "practicing  ball"  with  my  pupils, 
who  were  never  permitted  to  go  to  these  places',  although 
a  part  of  the  regular  routine  of  a  dancing -school,  unless 
I  would  accompany  them. 

My  previous  experience  in  a  religious  course  had  been 
too  formal;  and, now  Reason  began  to  detect  the  sophistry 
of  the  world's  promises,  and  experience,  to  reveal  the 
bitterness  of  its  delusions.  Wealth,  honor,  and  pleasure 
appeared  as  visionary  phantoms ;  and  I  asked  myself, 
with  a  beating  heart,  "Are  all  the  forms  of  beauty 
here  presented,  the  songs  of  melody,  or  the  streams  of 
pleasure  which  tend  to  lure  us  from  the  narrow  path  that 
leads  to  a  better  life,  suitable  desires  for  a  creature  who 
is  to  die  to-morrow?"  A  long  life  continually  rises  up 
in  prospect,  but  every  day's  experience  proves  the  fallacy 
of  depending  upon  that  for  a  preparation  to  die.  I 
thought  so,  at  least;  and  I  felt  that  a  crisis  had  come 
when  I  must  choose  between  the  life  of  an  earnest  Chris- 
tian and  a  compromise  with  the  world.  A  prophetic 
light  seemed  to  be  shed  upon  my  inward  vision,  and  with 
the  eye  of  Faith  I  sought  the  anchor  of  Hope  and  the 
influence  of  the  Spirit;  praying  that  the  world  might  be 
unmasked,  and  its  vanities  fully  exposed,  that  I  might 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  235 

detect  the  poison  concealed  in  the  chalice  presented  by 
the  pleasures  of  earth.  Life  would  still  remain  a  bless- 
ing, and  heaven  still  be  attainable. 

A  protracted -meeting  was  to  be  held  in  Abingdon, 
and  I  determined  to  avail  myself  of  its  privileges.  The 
whole  family  attended  Church  on  Saturday,  and  proposed 
being  present  at  the  eleven  o'clock  service  on  the  Sab- 
bath, but  I  wished  to  be  at  the  early  morning  love  -  feast 
as  well.  The  walk  to  town  was  short ;  but  as  the  weather 
was  exceedingly  hot,  and  the  road  dusty,  I  requested  to 
have  the  carriage  to  convey  me  thither  at  early  hour. 

"No,  no,"  said  Captain  Smith,  "you  must  not  go 
before  eleven, — it  will  be  too  much  of  a  good  thing  this 
long,  warm  day." 

I  made  no  reply;  but  his  opposition  only  made  me 
more  determined,  and  in  less  than  twenty  minutes  I  was 
walking  slowly  through  the  orchard  on  my  way  to  town. 
A  few  minutes  more  elapsed,  and  the  carriage  had  over- 
taken me;  it  was  ready  before  I  left. 

"Captain  Smith  has  sent  the  carriage,  ma'am — please 
get  in;  he  thought  you  wa'n't  in  earnest  about  going  in 
so  early,"  said  the  polite  coachman,  as  he  sprang  from 
his  seat  and  threw  open  the  door. 

"No,  go  back,"  I  replied;  "I  find  it  pleasant  enough 
to  walk." 

The  perplexed  coachman  was  saved  further  remon- 
strance by  my  walking  hastily  onward ;  and  I  soon 
reached  the  house  of  my  friend,  Mrs.  Branch,  who  had 
become  as  much  interested  in  the  Methodists  as  I  was-. 

Mrs.  Branch  accompanied  me  to  the  church,  which 
was  filled  to  its  utmost  capacity  by  people  whose  anx- 
ious, serious,  and  interested  looks  betrayed  the  state  of 
their  minds.  Curiosity,  no  doubt,  had  attracted  some, 


236  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

as  such  a  meeting  was  a  novelty  in  the  community.  The 
gallery  was  crowded  with  sable  faces,  peering  inquisi- 
tively around.  The  first  hymn  was  sung  with  spirit  and 
feeling,  and  was  followed  by  a  prayer  unusually  im- 
pressive and  comprehensive.  There  were  many  from 
other  Churches  present.  All  knelt  with  the  deepest 
reverence,  and  after  a  short  address  from  the  presiding 
minister  the  bread  and  water  were  handed  round,  of 
which  all  partook  in  token  of  Christian  fellowship. 

That  love-feast  made  a  deep  impression  upon  my  heart, 
every  avenue  of  which  seemed  open  to  the  reception  of 
divine  truth.  The  sweet  songs  of  Zion,  the  outgushing 
effusions  of  some  happy  in  the  love  of  God,  the  soul's 
burning  incense  mingling  with  the  deep,  hushed  sobbings 
of  penitent  hearts,  and  occasionally  a  well-connected  and 
touching  narrative,  which  fell  from  the  lips  of  one  who  had 
experienced  the  efficacy  and  power  of  divine  grace,  all 
enhanced  the  interest  of  the  scene.  On  the  one  side  was 
heard  the  soothing  voice  of  comfort  and  encouragement, 
joined  to  the  impetuous  spirit's  cry,  and  on  the  other, 

"  Words  low  spoken  seemed  to  bear 
The  pleadings  of  an  earnest  prayer." 

Intervals  of  what  appeared  celestial  music  played  upon 
the  harp-strings  of  a  regenerated  spirit  vibrated  sweetly 
upon  the  listening  ear,  making  the  melody  of  heaven  in 
the  soul ;  and  when  the  whole  congregation  sang  together 
the  praises  of  redeeming  love,  I  felt  as  if  listening  to  the 
music  of  seraphic  choirs,  and  could  almost  hear  the  rus- 
tling of  angels'  wings.  The  question  arose,  what  can  the 
world  offer  that  will  compare  with  the  divine  peace  that 
softly  flows  like  a  pure  stream  over  life's  burning  desert, 
gladdening  those  who  put  their  trust  in  God?  My  deci- 
sion was  made,  then  and  there,  to  be  a  Christian  without 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  237 

compromise;  and  as  my  soul  whispered  the  words,  "I 
am  resolved  what  to  do,"  my  restless  and  anxious  spirit 
was  quieted,  and  I  thanked  God  for  having  made  me 
acquainted  with  a  people  who  regarded  religion  as  an 
earnest  matter.  I  knew  their  doctrines  to  be  the  same 
as  those  of  the  Church  in  which  I  had  been  baptized. 
Now  I  felt  an  aspiration  for  a  zealous  consecration  to 
God,  that  I  might  no  longer  live  under  the  miserable 
delusion  that  it  was  possible  to  serve  God  and  the  world 
at  the  same  time.  I  wanted  that  religion  which  kindles 
upon  the  heart's  altar  a  living  faith  in  Jesus  Christ,  our 
Redeemer. 

An  interval  of  an  hour,  during  which  many  kept  their 
seats  from  fear  of  being  crowded  out,  and  then  came  the 
eleven  o'clock  preaching.  Silence  reigned  throughout 
the  assembly  as  the  solemn-browed  minister  arose  and 
gave  out  a  well-known  hymn,  which  the  whole  congrega- 
tion sang  with  "the  spirit  and  the  understanding."  The 
words  were  distinctly  pronounced  without  interrupting 
the  melody ;  a  short,  but  earnest  prayer,  a  few  prelimi- 
nary remarks  after  the  second  hymn,  and  the  preacher 
opened  upon  the  sublime  subject  of  the  atonement, 
portraying  the  unsatisfying  nature  of  all  that  the  world 
calls  good  and  great.  Never  did  the  mutability  and  the 
insufficiency  of  all  earthly  things  to  satisfy  the  demands 
of  the  soul  appear  to  me  so  plainly  exhibited.  Never 
did  the  world  and  its  allurements,  considered  as  a  source 
of  human  happiness,  appear  so  unavailing.  He  proved 
to  a  demonstration  that  a  consciousness  of  present  accept- 
ance with  God  was  more  valuable  than  crowns,  king- 
doms, thrones,  and  dominions;  and  more  to  be  desired 
than  all  the  boasted  honors  and  privileges  of  this  sin- 
banished  world.  These  were  nothing,  yea,  less  than 

16 


238  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

nothing,  compared  with  the  vital  importance  of  a  con- 
science purified  by  the  blood  of  the  covenant.  The  bliss 
of  piety  on  earth,  with  its  triumphs  in  a  dying  hour, 
were  never  presented  to  a  listening  audience  in  purer 
strains  of  persuasive  eloquence.  The  great  and  precious 
promises  of  the  Gospel  came  forth  with  unction  from  the 
preacher's  lips  to  the  hearts  of  his  hearers;  indeed,  with 
holy  fire  fresh  from  the  altar  above.  The  streaming  tears 
and  ascending  shouts  of  the  vast  assemblage  testified  that 
it  was  a  season  of  refreshing  from  the  presence  of  the 
Lord;  a  flood  of  glory  seemed  poured  in  upon  the  con- 
gregation from  the  open  gates  of  light.  Sinners  were 
awakened,  and  believers  built  up,  comforted,  strength- 
ened, and  established  in  their  most  holy  faith.  It  was  a 
time  of  the  outpouring  of  the  Spirit  never  to  be  for- 
gotten, and  the  fruits  of  which  will,  doubtless,  be  seen 
in  eternity. 

A  few  weeks  after  this  tickets  were  issued  for  a  grand 
ball  to  be  given  on  the  Fourth  of  July.  The  wave  of 
religious  excitement,  that  had  passed  over  the  town  and 
vicinity,  had  drifted  many  from  their  worldly  moorings, 
and  fastened  them  firmly  to  the  "Rock  of  Ages;"  but 
the  community,  in  general,  were  settled  down  to  their 
usual  routine  of  every-day  life,  and  there  seemed  to  be  an 
intense  interest  felt  by  the  lovers  of  amusement  in  the 
coming  celebration.  Everybody  felt  bound  to  attend  the 
Fourth  of  July  ball,  as  it  was  a  national  festivity.  The 
young  went  to  dance,  and  the  old  to  look  on.  Mrs. 
Smith  never  attended  any  place  of  the  kind,  and  I  was  ex- 
pected to  go  with  my  young  pupils.  Here  was  a  tempta- 
tion hard  to  resist.  Was  it  not  my  duty,  under  the 
circumstances,  to  go  with  them,  even  if  I  declined  partici- 
pating? Would  it  be  kind  to  deprive  the  girls  of  a 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  239 

privilege  which  they  did  not  often  enjoy?  Would  it  not 
offend  some  whose  good  will  I  desired  to  retain?  I  tried 
to  make  it  a  subject  of  fervent  prayer,  and  the  struggle 
was  soon  over.  I  positively  refused  to  attend  the  ball, 
or  to  give  my  countenance  to  it  in  any  way.  Some  of 
my  friends,  whose  opinion  I  valued,  thought  I  was 
"straining  at  a  gnat,"  even  if  I  did  not  "swallow  a 
camel;"  but  I  was  spared  the  hardest  trial,  for  neither 
Mary  Smith  nor  any  of  her  companions  complained  at 
my  decision;  and,  to  my  surprise,  seemed  glad  to  be 
relieved  of  the  trouble.  Thus  we  often  find  the  path 
of  duty  made  easy  as  well  as  plain  for  us,  when  we 
choose  the  right  and  ask  God's  blessing  upon  it. 

One  of  my  warmest  friends,  whom  I  admired  and 
loved  devotedly,  commended  and  encouraged  me  by  her 
example.  Mrs.  Joseph  Trigg,  "Cousin  or  Aunt  Betty," 
as  she  was  familiarly  called,  to  whom  all  the  young 
people  of  the  country  around  were  particularly  attached, 
in  consequence  of  the  interest  she  took  in  them,  being 
an  ardent  promoter  of,  and  participator  in,  their  social 
gatherings,  was  a  woman  of  deep  feeling,  energetic  and 
life-giving  in  whatever  sphere  she  moved.  Her  enjoy- 
ment of  society  was  intense,  and  rarely  did  a  shadow 
darken  her  brow  or  dispel  her  unfailing  good  humor. 

Aunt  Betty  had  now  become  a  Methodist,  combining 
the  characteristics  of  Martha  and  Mary,  and  was  as 
prominent  a  member  of  this  straitest  of  all  sects,  as  she 
had  been  a  leader  in  the  fashionable  world.  She  worked 
now  as  energetically  in  striving  to  promote  the  cause 
and  kingdom  of  the  Savior,  as  she  had  formerly  labored, 
to  use  her  own  expression,  "to  establish  the  kingdom 
of  Satan." 

A  quarterly-meeting  was  to  be  held  in  her  neighbor- 


240  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

hood,  eighteen  or  twenty  miles  from  Abingdon,  on  the 
Saturday  and  Sunday  preceding  the  Fourth  of  July.  It 
was  arranged  between  us  that  I  should  attend;  but  how? 
I  would  not  ask  for  the  carriage,  because  I  knew  that 
Captain  Smith  was  opposed  to  the  whole  matter.  I  had 
no  company;  it  was  finally  agreed  that  Mrs.  Trigg's  old 
and  faithful  servant,  Solomon,  should  be  sent  for  me  on 
Friday,  and  I  could  not  have  had  a  more  trusty  escort. 
We  started  early  Saturday  morning  for  the  grove  where 
the  meeting  was  in  progress,  and  where  I  was  to  meet 
Mrs.  Trigg. 

Solomon  had  a  fund  of  religious  anecdotes  with  which 
he  entertained  me  on  the  way.  He  had  long  been  a 
devoted  Methodist,  loved  the  cause  and  loved  the  preach- 
ers, none  of  whom  ever  tarried  a  night  at  his  master's 
hospitable  house  without  their  shoes  being  blacked  and 
their  horses  well  cared  for  by  him.  He  it  was  that 
held  the  bridle  when  the  preacher  left  in  the  morning, 
and  bade  him  "God-speed"  on  the  way.  He  told  me 
he  had  been  a  great  sinner,  and  cared  not  how  hard  he 
had  to  work  if  he  might  but  attend  a  horse  race  or  a 
cock  fight  on  Sunday;  but  it  had  pleased  God  to  bring 
him  among  the  Methodists  in  Western  Virginia,  and 
since  he  had  heard  them  preach  he  had  turned  "right 
round  and  put  his  hand  to  the  Gospel  plow,  and  had 
been  trying,  ever  since,  to  make  a  straight  furrow  to- 
ward the  Kingdom."  He  had  not  been  without  his 
temptations  to  turn  back,  and  his  particular  thorn  in  the 
flesh  was  his  brother  Jupiter,  whom  he  wanted  to  go  with 
him  to  the  heavenly  Canaan.  But  Jupiter  was  a  hard 
case,  and  resisted  all  Solomon's  efforts — loved  his  old 
ways  and  would  not  be  persuaded  to  be  a  Christian,  and, 
said  Solomon,  "  de  fact  is,  ma'r'm,  I  b'leve  my  brudder 


SIXTY  YEARS  JN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  241 

Jupiter  done  sold  hisself  to  Satan,  and  I  can  't  somehow 
see  why  't  is  dat  ole  Solomon  can  be  happy  in  spite  of 
all  dis;  but  I  knows  I  loves  him,  and  will  keep  on  lovin' 
him  and  pray  for  him  to  be  kept  out  of  de  pit,  and  trust 
my  God  for  de  rest." 

Solomon  was  a  proverb  among  his  own  people  for 
honesty  and  industry,  and  his  shining  black  face  was  a 
welcome  sight  to  them,  though  he  often  interfered  with 
their  sinful  amusements,  and  ceased  not  to  labor  for 
their  good.  The  white  people  welcomed  him  into  their 
churches,  his  real  piety  being  well  known  to  all.  He 
would  shout  in  the  Presbyterian  Church,  if  he  was  happy, 
with  as  much  energy  as  if  he  had  been  among  the  Meth- 
odists, and  yet  he  never  shouted  without  "blessing  God 
that  he  had  ever  seen  the  Methodists."  Upon  one  occa- 
sion he  was  so  happy,  and  shouted  so  vociferously,  that 
a  quiet  gentleman  at  his  elbow  said,  "Stop  awhile,  old 
man,  or  your  religion  will  all  run  out;"  to  which  he  re- 
plied, "Bress  God,  full  'um  up  again." 

A  few  hours  brought  us  to  a  large,  old-fashioned  barn, 
whose  ample  enclosure  held  a  modest  congregation  of 
simple-hearted  people,  assembled  there  for  the  purpose 
of  holding  a  love-feast  before  the  morning  service.  The 
bowery  trees  afforded  a  delightful  shade  for  a  large  num- 
ber of  persons  who  waited  for  the  hour  of  preaching.  My 
friend  was  ready  to  receive  me,  and  led  me  to  a  reserved 
seat  among  the  professors  of  religion.  I  expected  only 
to  be  an  observer,  as  upon  a  former  occasion,  of  what 
was  passing  before  me.  Again  my  soul  was  thrilled  and 
vibrated  in  sympathy  with  the  many  speakers  who  arose, 
in  quick  succession,  to  tell  of  God's  dealings  with  them, 
until,  no  longer  able  to  control  my  feelings,  I  arose  and 
asked  an  interest  in  the  prayers  of  the  people  of  God, 


242  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

stating  in  a  few  words,  which  were  listened  to  in  the 
deepest  silence,  my  own  convictions  and  determinations. 
This  novel  proceeding  excited  great  interest  in  my  behalf, 
which  was  increased  when  I  asked  permission  to  meet 
them  the  next  day  at  the  communion-table,  that  I  might 
there  pledge  myself  in  solemn  covenant  to  Jesus,  my 
Redeemer,  by  partaking  of  the  sacred  emblems  of  the 
eucharistic  feast.  Assuming  a  determined  attitude  to  re- 
sist any  temptation  to  look  back,  I  would  join  the  Church 
at  the  circuit  preacher's  next  appointment  in  Abingdon; 
I  would  then  ask  to  have  "the  doors  opened"  for  my 
especial  benefit,  that  I  might  take  the  step  openly  among 
my  friends  and  under  no  excitement.  The  ministers  pres- 
ent held  a  consultation  on  the  subject,  and  my  request 
was  granted.  We  had  two  sermons  that  day,  and  the 
crimson  hues  of  sunset  yielded  to  the  silvery  tranquillity 
of  moon  and  stars  before  we  reached  Mrs.  Trigg's  dwell- 
ing, a  few  miles  from  the  preaching-place. 

The  next  morning,  Sabbath,  I  anticipated  the  sun  in 
rising  that  I  might  read,  pray,  and  meditate  upon  the 
solemn  covenant  I  was  that  day  to  make;  and  oh  how 
earnestly  I  prayed  that  I  might  not  eat  and  drink  to  my 
own  condemnation.  I  caught  a  glance  of  myself  in  the 
old-fashioned  mirror,  just  before  I  descended  to  the  break- 
fast room,  and  was  startled  at  the  incongruity  of  my 
dress  for  the  occasion.  My  large  double  collarette  of 
book-muslin  seemed  more  conspicuous  than  ever  before ; 
my  hair,  dressed  a  la  mode,  with  curls  on  the  face,  would 
contrast  strangely  with  the  Quaker-dressed  people,  with 
whom  I  was  to  be  associated.  So  I  exchanged  the  col- 
larette for  a  simple  muslin  kerchief,  folded  over  the 
bosom,  and  combed  my  hair  smooth  behind  my  ears;  not 
that  I  thought  this  a  matter  of  vital  importance  so  far  as 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  243 

I  was  concerned,  but  I  feared  many  would  regard  it  as 
unsuitable  to  my  profession;  and,  like  St.  Paul,  I  was 
willing  to  conform  even  to  the  prejudices  of  good  people. 
I  had  no  jewelry  to  dispense  with;  I  never  did  admire, 
and  scarce  ever  wore  it, — not  even  a  finger-ring. 

That  day  was  an  eventful  one  in  my  life,  and  the 
place  where  I  worshiped  was  a  way  mark  on  my  journey, 
a  bethel  to  my  soul.  I  returned  to  my  every-day  duties 
with  fresh  energy,  and  was  occupied,  during  the  next  two 
weeks,  at  intervals,  with  the  help  of  Mrs.  Smith,  in  re- 
modeling my  fashionable  wardrobe,  removing  flounces, 
making  plain  substitutes  for  my  standing  collarettes,  re- 
ducing my  straw  bonnet  to  moderate  dimensions,  and 
taking  off  all  the  trimming  except  a  plain  ribbon. 

My  gay  young  friend,  John  Mitchell,  would  call  every 
day  or  two  to  see  how  I  was  getting  along,  as  he  said, 
"in  making  myself  as  much  like  old  Mother  Russell  as 
possible."  Should  he  go  to  town  and  get  me  some  Bath- 
coating,  that  I  might  have  a  long  train  like  hers?  had  I  a 
suitable  girdle  for  my  numerous  pocket  handkerchiefs? 
or  wouldn't  Aunt  Smith  make  me  some  half-handed 
gloves?  Captain  Smith  "hoped  I  would  not  require 
Mary  to  dress  as  I  did,  by  conforming  to  this  demure 
costume."  Mrs.  Smith  laughed;  I  bore  it  with  great 
equanimity  of  temper,  and  thus  conquered  by  not  being 
annoyed. 

During  the  two  weeks  of  probation,  my  intention  of 
joining  the  Church  was  much  talked  of,  and  I  verily 
believe  the  congregation  was  increased  on  that  day  by 
the  curiosity  of  many  who  still  doubted,  I  know  not 
why,  unless  it  was  that  to  be  a  Methodist  required  so 
many  sacrifices.  This  denomination  insisted  upon  a 
marked  distinction  between  the  world  and  the  Church. 


244  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

There  was  to  be  no  compromise,  and  I  had  lived  so  long 
in  the  fashionable  world  that  those  who  formed  their  opin- 
ions without  reflection  judged  of  me  by  the  standard  of 
their  own  experience.  But  my  decision  was  made  with 
due  deliberation,  and  I  determined  to  follow  the  narrow 
path  of  a  pilgrim  to  the  better  land. 

The  appointed  Sabbath  came.  I  walked  slowly  through 
the  orchard,  the  nearest  way  to  town.  It  was  a  charm- 
ing morning.  Summer  was  arrayed  in  her  brightest  tints. 
The  blue  sky  above  was  cloudless  and  purely  beautiful; 
and,  to  me,  the  air  was  never  so  balmy,  the  trees  so 
green,  or  the  song  of  the  birds  so  sweet.  The  dew 
sparkled  in  the  fragrant  flower-cups,  and  I  rejoiced  in  the 
assurance  that  all  these  lovely  objects  were  the  exponents 
of  God's  wisdom,  tokens  of  his  benevolence,  and  the  per- 
fect image  of  his  greatness. 

When  I  entered  the  church  I  took  my  seat  near  the 
altar,  in  company  with  Mrs.  Smith,  my  thoughtful  young 
pupils,  and  my  two  good  friends,  Mrs.  Branch  and  Mrs. 
Betty  Trigg.  The  pulpit  was  filled  by  the  Rev.  Josiah 
Rhoton,  the  young  man  of  threadbare  memory.  I  heard 
but  little  of  the  sermon,  though  I  tried  to  listen.  It  was 
said  to  be  eloquent,  but  I  was  too  much  absorbed  with 
my  own  thoughts  and  the  importance  of  the  step  I  was 
about  to  take,  which  I  hoped  and  believed  would  bring 
me  within  the  inner  circle  of  God's  providence.  The  ser- 
mon over,  the  preacher  walked  down  from  the  pulpit  and 
asked,  "Are  there  any  who  wish  to  join  the  Church? 
If  so,  let  them  come  forward  while  the  congregation  are 
singing  the  first  hymn."  I  arose  and  stepped  inside  the 
altar  before  the  first  two  lines  were  finished.  I  was  alone; 
no  one  followed  my  example.  The  hymn  finished,  the 
congregation  seemed  to  sit  in  breathless  silence,  while 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  245 

my  name  was  announced,  and  the  usual  preliminaries 
were  gone  through.  I  was  admitted  into  full  member- 
ship, according  to  my  own  desire,  after  which  I  was  com- 
pletely surrounded  by  Christian  friends,  who  wept  and 
rejoiced  over  me  as  a  new-found  sister.  Some  would  have 
thought  this  too  severe  an  ordeal  and  would  have  sought 
a  different  mode  of  admission  into  the  Church.  I  argued 
otherwise,  and  was  strengthened  in  the  performance  of 
what  I  conceived  an  imperative  duty  by  God's  blessing 
in  the  very  act.  He  who  knows  all  hearts,  knows  that  I 
did  not  intend  to  make  an  ostentatious  display,  but,  at 
the  same  time,  I  was  not  willing  to  sit  in  "Nicodemus's 
corner,"  desiring  rather  to  make  an  open  renunciation  if 
haply  my  example  might  do  good  to  others. 

My  introduction  into  Methodist  society  made  me  ac- 
quainted with  many  excellent  people  whose  simple  man- 
ners and  unaffected  piety  showed  plainly  the  source 
whence  it  was  derived.  The  religion  of  the  Bible  was 
worn  as  an  every-day  garment,  and  not  kept  for  a  showy 
Sunday  suit.  Conscience  never  permitted  them  to  neg- 
lect real  duties  for  the  performance  of  imaginary  ones. 
Among  them,  I  learned  that  the  essential  worship  of  a 
true  Christian  consists  in  the  daily  discharge  of  temporal 
obligations,  beautifully  interwoven  with  daily  spiritual 
worship  before  a  throne  of  Grace,  not  forsaking  the  as- 
sembling together  at  proper  times  and  places,  as  well  as 
public  worship  on  the  Sabbath.  The  Ganaways,  the 
Winifreds,  and  others  in  and  about  Abingdon,  were  true 
types  of  that  Methodism,  once  termed  by  a  Scotch  divine 
"Christianity  in  earnest."  They  seemed  to  live  always 
in  sight  of  heaven. 

I  was  still  privileged  to  hold  sweet  counsel  with  my 
excellent  and  tried  friends  of  former  companionship,  who 


246  JULIA  A,  TEVIS. 

were  now  also  striving  to  walk  worthy  of  their  high  voca- 
tion— my  amiable  and  sympathizing  Mrs.  B.,  my  warm 
hearted,  though  undemonstrative,  Mrs.  L.,  whose  sunny 
good  nature  seemed  to  crystallize  into  a  cheerful  serenity 
that  sparkled  beneath  the  darkest  skies ;  but,  above  all,  I 
loved  to  talk  with  Aunt  Betty,  and  we  often  reverted, 
with  wonder,  to  the  superficial  feelings  upon  which  we 
had  hitherto  lived,  without  knowing  the  depths  of  our 
own  hearts.  Together  we  attended  all  those  places 
"where  prayer  was  wont  to  be  made,"  and  felt  as  if  just 
beginning  to  learn  the  true  object  and  mystery  of  life. 

Thus  the  "velvet-footed"  days  flew  noiselessly  by. 
The  rainbow  of  promise  was  before  me,  and  a  holy 
light  seemed  dawning  on  my  vision;  yet  I  was  without 
any  bright  manifestation  of  a  Savior's  pardoning  love, 
for  which  I  was  taught  to  pray  and  confidently  expect. 
I  was  unwavering,  however,  in  the  determination  that  I 
would  never  stop  short  of  any  possible  attainment  in  the 
glorious  pathway  to  eternal  life.  Pride  and  vain  self- 
confidence  had  long  been  my  besetting  sins,  and  I  con- 
tinued to  strive  against  them  by  constant  prayer  and 
watchfulness.  Alas!  how  difficult  the  task  after  the 
deceitfulness  of  sin  has  taken  such  deep  root  in  the  soul! 
Yet,  I  did  find  a  degree  of  peace  so  soon  as  resolution  was 
enthroned  as  the  guide  of  my  soul,  and  I  was  enabled,  in 
all  sincerity,  to  disrobe  myself  of  that  pharisaical  religion 
which  had  given  me  nothing  but  a  heartless  experience 
of  the  folly  of  those  spasmodic  efforts  to  do  good  and  be 
good,  without  some  settled  principle.  I  prayed  con- 
stantly for  faith  and  a  persevering  adoption  of  the  spirit 
of  Christ. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  247 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

SUMMER  waned  and  Autumn  came.  In  September, 
1823,  the  annual  camp-meeting  was  held  near  the 
Sulphur  Springs,  in  Smyth  County,  Virginia.  A  beau- 
tiful grove  of  grand  old  trees  in  a  lovely  mountain  gorge 
marked  the  spot  that  had,  for  this  especial  purpose,  been 
generously  donated  to  the  Methodists  for  the  term  of  a 
hundred  years  by  Colonel  Thompson,  the  son-in-law  of 
old  Mother  Russell.  Mother  Russell's  unobtrusive  dwell- 
ing was  in  the  immediate  vicinity,  and  she  not  only 
attended  constantly  this  means  of  grace  herself,  but 
her  house  was  the  temporary  home  of  many  who  came 
from  a  distance.  The  camp-meetings  held  on  this  spot 
were  widely  diffusive  of  good,  and  were  really  necessary 
in  a  country  so  sparsely  settled  as  was  this  part  of 
Western  Virginia  at  that  time.  It  was  not  uncommon 
to  find  persons  attending  from  Tennessee  and  North 
Carolina. 

We  reached  the  camp-ground  late  in  the  afternoon  of 
a  brilliant  Autumn  day;  while  yet  flakes  of  sunshine, 
sifting  through  the  pendant  branches,  fell  like  tremulous, 
gleaming  gems  upon  the  heads  of  the  assembled  congre- 
gation. Near  by,  but  hidden  under  the  foliage  of  the 
water  willow,  whose  branches  hung  over  the  clear  stream, 
was  a  spring  widening  into  smooth,  deep  water — a  min- 
iature lake,  throwing  back  the  sunshine  like  a  mirror, 
and  keeping  all  its  secret  depths  unlighted;  then  con- 


248  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

tracting  into  a  narrow  stream  it  ran,  glittering  like  a 
silver  thread,  through  the  valley  beneath.  Beyond  it 
rose  a  magnificent  mountain,  skirted  with  woods  and, 
even  to  the  very  summit,  dotted  with  farms  and  dwell- 
ings rendered  quite  distinct  on  a  clear  day.  Nearer,  and 
upon  one  side  of  the  green  and  goodly  valley  where  the 
tents  were  pitched,  was  a  less  elevated  mountain,  covered 
with  every  shade  of  green  foliage,  interspersed  with  flow- 
ering shrubs;  among  which  predominated  the  luxuriant 
and  richly-tinted  "laurel,"  with  its  deep  green  leaves  so 
refreshing  to  the  eye.  The  declining  sun  touched  every- 
thing with  a  soft  and  tender  light,  and  the  few  fleecy 
clouds,  visible  in  the  fathomless  blue  air,  seemed  like 
white  doves  of  peace,  floating  with  wings  outspread 
in  benediction  over  the  assembled  multitude  of  God's 
people,  who  had  come  up  into  the  wilderness,  apart  from 
the  dust  and  heat  and  hurry  of  existence,  that  they 
might  hold  sweet  communion  with  each  other,  and  bow 
with  united  hearts  before  their  great  Creator,  here  to 
worship  him  under  the  overarching  skies  in  a  "temple 
not  made  with  hands." 

A  winding  pathway  up  the  mountain  side,  quite  con- 
cealed from  the  passers-by,  led  to  a  spot  high  up,  where, 
under  the  spreading  oak  and  chestnut,  prayer  was  offered 
up  during  the  intervals  of  public  preaching  for  earnest 
seekers  of  religion.  Pious  and  experienced  women,  who 
were  ever  laboring  for  the  good  of  souls,  and  who  felt 
that  a  cup  of  cold  water  given  to  famished  lips  in  the 
spirit  of  the  Gospel  is  a  pearl  of  great  price  in  the  sight 
of  Him  who  has  pronounced  it  "more  blessed  to  give 
than  to  receive,"  were  accustomed  to  pray  there  with  and 
for  the  female  penitents  and  seekers  of  religion.  All 
along  its  steep  ascent  were  quiet  nooks  and  shady  dells, 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  249 

where  no  prying  eye  or  careless  footstep  would  be  likely 
to  intrude. 

I  had  come  to  the  meeting  by  the  special  invitation 
of  Aunt  Betty,  whose  hospitality  I  was  to  share,  and 
whose  large  heart  and  ample  provision  made  it  a  pleasant 
resting-place  for  many  of  her  friends.  Her  tent  —  or, 
rather,  cottage — was  erected  by  her  kind  husband,  with 
great  attention  to  comfort  and  convenience,  having  an 
upper  story  containing  small  sleeping  apartments,  while 
the  lower  story  was  appropriated  to  prayer-meetings  and 
the  reception  of  transient  visitors.  The  bountiful  table 
was  spread  under  the  shade  of  the  trees,  near  the  little 
temporary  kitchen  where  old  Solomon  presided  as  chief. 
To  his  heart's  delight,  he  found  ample  time  not  only  to 
wait  on  the  preachers,  whom  he  almost  worshiped,  but 
also  to  attend  prayer-meetings  among  his  colored  breth- 
ren, and  occasionally  fill  their  preaching -stand  as  an 
exhorter;  besides,  he  never  neglected  the  preaching  hour 
among  the  whites.  It  was  pleasant  to  see  his  shining 
black  face,  softened  by  a  magnificent  fleece  of  white  wool, 
with  dilated  eyes  and  half- open  mouth,  as  he  sat  at  a 
modest  distance  during  the  service,  drinking  in  large 
draughts  from  the  same  pure  fountain  of  mercy  as  his 
white  brethren;  and  it  was  exciting  to  hear  his  deep, 
suppressed,  "Amen,  massa!  bress  God!" — the  tears 
flowing  fast  as  he  occasionally  exclaimed,  "Free  salva- 
tion, glory  to  my  Massa  in  heaven!" 

My  first  night  at  the  encampment  was  full  of  beauty. 
At  each  of  the  four  corners  of  the  camp-ground  was  left 
the  stump  of  a  large  tree,  four  or  five  feet  high,  the  tops 
of  which  were  rendered  fire -proof  by  a  layer  of  brick 
and  mortar,  and  upon  these  blazed  burning  pine  knots, 
lighting  up  all  the  surroundings  with  their  tall  flames. 


250  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

Among  the  dark,  green  foliage  glittered  the  flickering 
lights  of  numerous  lamps  attached  to  trees;  beautiful 
white  vapors  floated  in  the  star-lit  sky,  now  resting  an 
instant,  then  glancing  onward,  hiding  the  face  of  the  full 
moon  like  a  snowy  veil  cast  over  the  jeweled  brow  of  a 
queen.  Green  trees,  grassy  meadows,  wild  flowers,  and 
mountain  scenery  always  seem  to  raise  me  above  the 
earth  and  its  cares, — thus  I  may  be  pardoned  for  what 
might  seem  an  unnecessary  fullness  of  description  of  the 
singular  and  beautiful  scene;  and  there  are  connected 
with  this  meeting  incidents  so  vividly  daguerreotyped 
upon  my  heart  that  even  now  Memory,  with  her  magic 
power,  lights  them  up  as  beautifully  as  at  first. 

In  the  stand  were  reverend,  good-looking  men,  whose 
very  appearance  inspired  confidence.  The  trumpet  was 
sounded,  and  long  lines  of  people  were  seen  wending 
their  way  to  roughly  constructed  seats,  made  for  the 
occasion.  I  never  saw  more  perfect  order,  more  atten- 
tion to  politeness  and  decorum,  in  any  assemblage  of 
people.  The  hymn  was  announced, — all  sang  together; 
in  those  days  singing  was  worship, — the  beginning,  as  it 
were,  of  prayer.  The  assembled  multitude  rose  up  to 
sing,  and,  after  repeating  the  last  two  lines  of  the  hymn, 
fell  upon  their  knees,  to  continue  that  act  of  devotion  in 
prayer;  and  there  was  a  power  in  it,  felt  by  all.  When 
we  arose  again  a  well-known  melody  poured  forth  from 
the  hearts  of  the  whole  congregation,  full  of  freedom,  of 
simplicity,  of  feeling,  and  of  energetic  sentiment.  It  was 
as  the  wings  of  seraphim,  upon  which  the  assembled  mul- 
titude were  borne  heavenward,  thus  elevating  preachers 
and  hearers  in  the  introductory,  so  that  the  whole  subse- 
quent service  showed  its  effect.  Never  did  truer  music 
gush  from  the  human  heart;  and  a  more  efficacious 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  251 

means  for  inspiring  the  minds  of  the  hearers  with  the 
love  of  religion  could  hardly  be  conceived  than  when  its 
sublime  sentiments  are  clothed  in  sweet  musical  harmony 
that  captivates  the  senses,  and  touches  the  soul  through 
the  medium  of  the  ear  and  the  heart.  Many  of  the  old 
tunes,  habitual  in  the  worship  of  those  days,  seem  in- 
stinctive to  the  devotional  feelings  of  our  people.  If  our 
congregations  had  not  then  the  artistic  appreciation  in 
the  execution  of  music  which  belongs  to  the  present  day, 
they  had,  at  least,  more  of  that  heart-gushing  piety  which 
flows  in  sweet  music  from  the  exhaustless  fountain  of 
true  religion;  and  their  choice  tunes  showed  a  higher 
musical  taste  than  now  prevails  among  us.  Charles 
Wesley's  hymns,  so  full  of  glowing  piety,  would  kindle 
a  heavenly  flame  in  the  hearts  of  any  assembly  sincerely 
desirous  of  praising  and  worshiping  God.  We  ridicule 
many  of  the  old  tunes,  as  well  as  the  poetry  to  which 
they  were  sung,  as  not  fit  for  a  genteel  congregation. 
The  reproach  is  just  to  some  extent,  but  not  so  fully  as 
is  supposed;  for  there  was  a  period  when  these  melodies 
were  used  almost  exclusively  with  Charles  Wesley's  noble 
strains.  The  fact  is,  the  primitive  Methodists  were  more 
exempt  from  doggerel  follies  than  we  are.  Methodist 
singing,  at  church  and  at  home,  once  had  a  charm  of  its 
own,  almost  as  much  as  Quaker  apparel  had  a  fashion  of 
its  own, — and  every  body  liked  it,  because  it  made  mel- 
ody in  every  heart. 

Our  surroundings  were  favorable  to  devotion.  We 
were  too  remote  from  cities  and  towns  to  be  annoyed  by 
the  curious  and  the  idle.  Even  those  who  came  to  observe 
and  to  be  observed  remained  to  pray.  Public  services 
never  continued  later  than  ten  o'clock  P.  M., — at  that 
hour  all  were  expected  to  seek  repose ;  yet  in  some  of  the 


252  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

tents  the  voice  of  prayer  and  praise  was  heard  at  a  much 
later  hour,  and,  at  intervals,  the  prolonged  shouts  of 
happy  souls. 

The  sound  of  the  trumpet  at  early  dawn  awakened 
all  slumberers  for  morning  prayer;  after  which  a  frugal 
meal — nothing  hot  but  tea  or  coffee — was  prepared,  and 
then  an  interval  of  two  or  three  hours  spent  in  private 
devotion  before  the  eleven  o'clock  preaching.  We  dined 
at  precisely  one  o'clock,  giving  an  opportunity  for  the 
serious  and  penitent  to  withdraw  again  for  private  prayer. 
Religious  exercises,  thus  conducted,  even  the  most  cen- 
sorious and  fastidious  must  acknowledge  to  be  productive 
of  great  good,  and  was  the  very  thing  most  needed  in  a 
thinly  settled  country,  where  the  visits  of  a  minister 
were  only  occasional,  and  preaching  -  places  were  few 
and  far  between.  Here  rich  streams  of  Gospel  grace 
caused  all  hearts  to  overflow  with  love  to  God;  and  the 
hallowed  music  of  many  voices  mingled  with  the  songs 
of  the  redeemed  in  heaven. 

Returning  one  evening  with  some  friends  from  our 
mountain  retreat,  we  were  attracted  by  a  crowd  standing 
before  the  open  door  of  a  large  tent.  Agreeably  to  the 
simple  customs  of  the  place,  we  entered  without  cere- 
mony, and  saw  a  young  woman  lying  on  a  couch,  in  a 
state  of  total  insensibility.  The  pallor  of  her  face  and 
her  closed  eyelids,  the  coldness  of  her  marble  brow,  and 
the  icy  touch  of  her  folded  hands,  would  have  indicated 
death ;  but  the  heart  gently  fluttered  like  a  caged  bird, 
and  the  very  spirit  of  tranquillity  hovered  over  that  sweet 
face.  She  had  been  in  this  state  for  several  hours,  and 
some  were  apprehensive  that  the  soul  was  about  to  leave 
its  clayey  tenement  forever;  but  before  midnight  the 
color  gradually  returned  to  her  face,  and,  as  the  vital 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  253 

spark  was  rekindling,  she  opened  her  eyes  and  softly 
whispered, — 

"This  sweet  calm  within  my  breast 
Is  the  best  pledge  of  heavenly  rest ;" 

and  the  quiet  eyelids  closed  again,  as  if  seeking  that 
deeper  rest  I  know  this  to  be  true;  but  have  no  com- 
ments to  make  upon  it,  except  that  this  young  person 
was  well  known,  and  loved  and  respected,  as  a  model  of 
unpretending  piety.  She  worshiped  God  with  inward 
zeal  and  served  him  in  every  action,  and  never  after- 
wards referred  to  this  trance  as  any  thing  remarkable, 
but  frequently  spoke  of  the  melody  and  love  with  which 
her  soul  was  filled.  Had  she  heard  unutterable  things, 
and  seen  visions  that  were  ineffable? 

I  tried  to  improve  every  privilege  afforded  me  at  this 
meeting,  but  from  day  to  day,  without  any  bright  evi- 
dence of  my  acceptance  with  God.  I  knew  full  well 
that  a  change  had  been  wrought  in  my  heart,  that  the 
things  I  formerly  delighted  in  no  longer  captivated  my 
senses;  but  I  knew  also  that  I  was  not  truly  converted, 
and  I  began  to  doubt — not  the  truth  of  the  doctrine  of 
sudden  conversions,  but  that  I  was  ever  to  expect  to  be 
changed  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  as  was  St.  Paul.  I 
would  not  be  discouraged,  however;  having  put  my  hand 
to  the  plow  and  turned  my  face  Zionward,  I  determined, 
by  the  help  of  God,  never  to  look  back.  I  would  wait 
patiently  with  the  perfect  assurance  that  my  Heavenly 
Father  would  never  have  implanted  desires  that  could 
not  be  fulfilled. 

On  the  afternoon  of  a  day  that  had  been  filled  with 
intensely  interesting  scenes,  I  went  with  a  few  pious 
friends  up  into  the  mountain  to  pray.  "Aunt  Betty 
Trigg"  was  among  the  number,  her  soul  full  of  love  and 

17 


254  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

prayer.  We  knelt  beneath  the  wide-spreading  branches 
of  an  oak  whose  leaves  had  been  repeatedly  agitated  by 
the  breath  of  fervent  prayer,  resolved  to  wrestle  like 
Jacob  until  the  blessing  was  obtained.  All  prayed;  but 
one  voice  was  heard  to  swell  above  the  rest,  and  then 
came  the  hallowed  silence  of  humble  saints  absorbed  in 
prayer  for  me,  whilst  I  felt  the  full  force  of  that  beautiful 
expression,  "I  can  but  perish  if  I  go,  I  am  resolved 
to  try."  It  was  a  season  of  holy  influences.  I  can 
not  tell — I  never  could;  but  this  much  I  know,  I 
felt  willing  to  yield  all  to  the  will  of  God,  and  place 
my  hopes  of  happiness  for  time  and  eternity  at  the 
foot  of  the  cross;  and  then  came  a  "joy  and  peace  in 
believing"  that  words  could  not  express,  and  I  sat  like 
Mary  at  the  feet  of  Jesus  and  wept,  with  that  sweet  song 
in  my  mouth: 

"In  such  a  frame  as  this, 

I  'd  sit  and  sing  my  soul  away, 

To  everlasting  bliss." 

From  this  time  the  meeting  was  full  of  enjoyment.  I 
could  now  raise  my  voice  to  swell  the  chorus  of  redeem- 
ing love.  I  felt  that  I  was  a  creature  of  mercy,  called  by 
the  word  of  God  to  seek  my  everlasting  peace  in  the 
covenant  of  redemption. 

The  events  connected  with  this  precious  week  spent 
among  the  godly  tents  of  Jacob  and  the  tabernacles  of 
Israel  are  so  full  of  interest  to  me  that  I  must  be  par- 
doned for  prolixity.  The  time  of  parting  came,  and  I 
left  many  behind  whom  I  might  not  meet  again  this  side 
of  heaven.  All,  all  must  part  on  earth,  yet  there  will  be 
a  meeting  hereafter  in  those  gardens  beside  the  waters 
of  life,  a  glorious  and  eternal  meeting  for  all  who  die  in 
the  triumphs  of  the  Gospel. 

When  at  home  and  in  the  school-room  again,  I  found 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  255 

my  dear  little  girls  looking  curiously  at  me,  as  if  desirous 
of  knowing  what  would  come  of  all  this.  I  afterward 
understood  that  some  of  them  had  resolved  to  test  the 
change  and  try  the  strength  of  my  religion.  They  well 
knew  that  a  hasty  and  impatient  temper  was  my  besetting 
sin,  and  that  I  never  could  tolerate  idleness  and  want  of 
order.  An  inkstand  was  overturned ;  silence  was  inter- 
rupted during  study  hours  by  suppressed  tittering  or  low 
whispers,  loud  enough,  however,  to  catch  my  attention, 
with  various  other  indications  of  insubordination;  and  to 
cap  the  climax,  badly  recited  lessons  continued  for  sev- 
eral days. 

I  stood  the  test  tolerably  well  for  I  was  on  my  guard 
and  prayed  for  help,  yet  I  failed  not  to  punish  and  firmly 
held  the  reins  of  government  without  any  scolding. 
Finally  they  gave  over,  and  came  with  faltering  voices 
and  tearful  eyes  to  ask  pardon,  which  they  would  have 
done  upon  their  bended  knees  if  permitted.  After  this 
we  had  a  pleasant  time  enough,  and  the  dear  little  peni- 
tents began  to  hold  class-meetings  and  love-feasts  and 
almost  daily  prayer-meetings  among  themselves.  This 
was  done  with  sincerity  and  in  the  full  tide  of  new  and 
joyful  emotion,  hence,  no  one  interrupted  them.  These 
reunions  were  finally  given  up,  because,  at  their  last 
meeting  in  the  meadow  under  the  shady  trees,  while 
one  of  the  girls  was  praying  and  the  others  weeping 
with  intense  feeling,  some  thoughtless  boys,  perched 
in  the  branches  of  the  trees,  were  amusing  themselves 
at  the  expense  of  the  girls,  pretending  to  weep,  one, 
to-day  known  as  Parson  Brownlow,  wiping  his  eyes 
with  a  brickbat  and  another  with  a  shingle.  The  noise 
they  made  attracted  the  attention  of  the  girls.  Deeply 
incensed  and  greatly  shocked,  they  fled  precipitately 


256  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

into  the  house,  and  determined  never  again  to  place 
themselves  under  circumstances  where  holy  things  could 
be  ridiculed,  yet  they  did  not  carelessly  cast  aside  those 
sweet  influences  of  Christianity,  still  continuing  to  sing 
hymns,  holding  class-meetings  occasionally  in  their  own 
room  and  praying  together  frequently. 

Who  shall  say  that  these  young  girls,  brought  up  un- 
der the  happy  influences  of  the  Gospel,  and  so  readily 
responding  to  the  Savior's  call,  "Daughter,  give  me  thy 
heart,"  were  not  the  objects  of  God's  peculiar  care? 
What  a  charming  spectacle  was  this  family  of  docile  and 
dutiful  children,  increasing  in  knowledge  and  virtue  as 
they  grew  in  stature. 

Years  passed ;  these  sister-spirits  attained  to  woman- 
hood ;  their  souls  being  constantly  watered  by  the  dew  of 
Lebanon,  were  kept  ever  fresh  and  green.  Each  lovely 
and  beloved,  exerted,  in  her  own  sphere,  a  pure,  ele- 
vated, and  holy  influence,  beautifully  exemplifying  the 
effect  of  early  training.  Three,  having  nobly  fulfilled  the 
work  assigned  them  on  earth,  have  gone  to  their  eternal 
reward.  One  yet  lives  to  bless  the  world  by  her  example 
as  a  wife,  mother,  and  friend,  the  fragrance  of  a  loving 
household,  and  the  light  of  the  circle  in  which  she  moves. 

Those  who  thus  begin  life's  pilgrimage  find  that  relig- 
ion becomes  more  and  more  pleasant  every  day.  It  is 
like  ascending  a  mountain,  where  the  prospect,  hour  after 
hour,  expands  and  becomes  more  glorious;  like  watching 
the  dawn  growing  brighter  and  brighter,  until  hill  and 
vale,  lake  and  forest,  are  bathed  in  a  blaze  of  effulgence. 
Our  divine  religion  is  the  soul's  native  air,  its  portion, 
its  celestial  home,  the  coronet  of  youth  and  the  "crown  of 
old  a'ge. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  257 


CHAPTER  XX. 

I  HAD  expected  to  remain  at  "The  Meadows"  until 
Mary's  education  should  be  completed,  and  this  was 
ardently  desired  by  all  concerned;  but  the  period  was 
rapidly  approaching  which  was  to  make  an  important 
change  in  my  future.  In  the  latter  part  of  September, 
Mr.  Tevis  tarried  a  few  days  at  Captain  Smith's,  on  his 
way  to  his  Kentucky  home,  where  he  was  accustomed  to 
spend  a  week  at  the  close  of  each  conference  year.  Hav- 
ing had  frequent  opportunities  of  learning  the  true  ele- 
vation of  soul  which  characterized  this  self-sacrificing, 
noble-minded  Christian,  and  contrasting  the  true  value 
and  lofty  worth  of  the  things  of  God  and  eternity  with 
the  vanities  and  follies  of  the  world,  it  was  very  natural 
that  I  should  esteem  and  honor  one  so  thoroughly  a  mis- 
sionary of  the  cross,  one  in  whom  goodness  seemed  per- 
sonified. His  prayer  for  the  family,  on  the  morning  of 
his  departure,  was  more  than  usually  fervent,  and  charac- 
terized by  a  simple  and  lofty  eloquence  that  kindled  a 
devotional  spirit  in  every  heart;  and  when  he  bade  us 
farewell,  a  glow  of  holy  feeling  beamed  on  his  face,  as  if 
it  were  to  be  his  last  meeting  with  us  on  earth.  Almost 
involuntarily,  I  walked  to  the  window  to  watch  his  reced- 
ing form  as  he  passed  rapidly  down  the  lawn  through  the 
gate-way  and  mounted  his  horse  and  quickly  disappeared. 
I  was  conscious  then  of  a  deeper  interest  in  Mrs.  Smith's 
model  preacher  than  I  was  willing  to  acknowledge  even 
to  myself. 


258  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

Scarce  two  weeks  had  elapsed  when  I  received  a  pas- 
toral letter  from  him,  post-marked  Knoxville,  Tennessee, 
requesting  a  reply  at  Shelbyville,  Kentucky.  Not  a  single 
expression  in  his  letter  evinced  a  deeper  .interest  in  me 
than  he  might  have  felt  and  expressed  for  others  of  his 
numerous  charge.  I  readily  accepted  the  opportunity  of 
corresponding  with  one  whose  pious  advice  might  aid  me 
in  my  onward  efforts  through  the  new  and  almost  untried 
path  before  me.  A  truly  religious  friendship,  imbued 
with  the  spirit  of  the  Gospel,  is  one  of  the  greatest  of 
earthly  blessings.  My  reply  found  him  at  his  father's 
home,  near  Shelbyville.  Our  correspondence  was  contin- 
ued without  the  slightest  allusion  to  the  prospect  of  a 
more  intimate  relationship,  though  we  both  afterward 
acknowledged  to  an  occasional  glimpse,  somewhat  vague, 
it  is  true,  of  a  more  united  interest  thereafter  for  time 
and  for  eternity. 

The  usual  Christmas  quarterly-meeting  brought  him 
back  to  Abingdon,  but  he  tarried  in  town  with  a  brother 
Wills.  On  New  Year's  Eve  a  long  letter,  written  closely 
and  with  great  care,  was  handed  me.  This  contained  a 
plain,  matter-of-fact  proposal  of  marriage,  but  sufficiently 
tender  for  a  dignified  minister  of  the  Gospel.  He  re- 
quested my  earnest  and  prayerful  consideration  of  the 
matter,  previous  to  a  personal  interview,  Avhich  he  desired 
might  take  place  on  the  morrow.  Early  on  the  first  day 
of  January  we  quietly  talked  the  whole  subject  over,  as 
we  sat  in  Mrs.  Smith's  dining-room,  one  on  each  side  of 
the  fire-place.  We  were  not  young  enough  for  romance, 
he  being  thirty-two  years  of  age  and  I  twenty-four;  and 
we  were  both  too  serious  for  affectation  or  trifling.  Thus, 
after  settling  some  difficulties  which  appeared  to  me  in- 
superable, relating  to  a  continued  provision  for  the  com- 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  259 

fort  and  support  of  my  mother  and  family,  all  of  which 
were  obviated,  as  soon  as  presented,  by  this  liberal- 
minded  Christian,  who  cheerfully  promised  to  aid  me  in 
all  that  I  might  be  required  to  do  for  them,  an  engage- 
ment was  agreed  upon.  We  felt  assured  that  the  blessing 
of  God  would  follow  a  union  so  entered  into;  and  that, 
bound  together  by  the  most  sacred  of  earthly  ties,  we 
might  toil  and  weep  and  pray  and  rejoice  together  in  this 
fallen  world  and  meet  as  friends  in  the  Celestial  Paradise, 
where  there  are  greetings  such  as  only  angelic  hearts 
can  know. 

Captain  Smith,  though  thoroughly  vexed  at  the  de- 
rangement of  his  own  plans,  entered  heartily  into  ours. 
He  could  not  forbear  exclaiming,  however,  "Well,  I'll 
never  invite  another  Methodist  preacher  into  my  house 
unless  he  be  ugly,  old,  and  disagreeable."  The  day  of 
our  marriage  was  fixed  for  Tuesday,  March  9,  1824,  in 
honor  of  the  birth-day  of  my  future  father-in-law.  Dur- 
ing the  interim  our  regular  duties  were  not  interrupted. 
The  presiding  elder  did  not  ride  a  mile  less,  nor  did  he 
omit  the  preaching  of  a  single  sermon.  My  books  and 
pupils  occupied  my  attention  as  completely  as  ever, 
though  at  intervals  I  plied  diligently  the  swift,  shining 
needle,  for  I  was  still  my  own  mantua-maker. 

For  the  benefit  of  my  lady  readers,  and  especially  to 
satisfy  the  curiosity  of  my  pupils,  I  will  merely  advert  to 
my  trousseau.  My  wedding-dress  was  an  India  muslin 
robe,  made  in  the  prevailing  style,  only  three  widths  in 
the  skirt,  and  severely  plain  in  every  respect ;  no  chaplet 
of  orange  flowers  gleaming  with  pearls;  no  rich  laces,  no 
ornaments  of  any  kind,  not  even  a  bridal  veil.  I  did 
expect  to  take  a  trip,  but  I  should  need  neither  a  travel- 
ing dress  nor  a  large  trunk.  A  pair  of  common  saddle- 


26o  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

bags  would  carry  all  I  wanted.  The  only  expensive  dress 
that  I  had  was  a  black  Canton  crape  robe,  purchased  at 
what  I  considered  at  the  time  to  be  an  enormous  price, 
twelve  dollars. 

The  eventful  day  at  last  arrived.  It  was  cloudy  and 
drizzling,  cold  and  cheerless,  'with  only  occasional  glimp- 
ses of  sunshine.  Mr.  Tevis  spent  the  day  in  his  own 
room,  having  donned  his  wedding-suit  when  he  first 
arose,  to  the  complete  astonishment  of  those  who  met 
him  at  the  breakfast-table.  I  have  said  that  the  day  was 
unpleasant;  leaden  clouds  hung  low  on  the  misty  horizon; 
but  no  gloomy  doubts  pressed  upon  my  mind.  Late  in 
the  afternoon  the  clouds  in  the  West  broke  away,  and 
the  sun,  sinking  into  night,  threw  his  parting  beams  upon 
the  earth. 

No  cards  of  invitation  had  been  issued,  but  some 
twenty  or  thirty  of  our  mutual  friends  were  made  ac- 
quainted with  the  day  and  the  hour.  Thus,  soon  after 
early  candle-light,  the  wedding-guests  came  dropping  in 
until  the  parlor  was  comfortably  filled.  The  ceremony, 
performed  by  the  Rev.  W.  P.  Kendrick,  was  long  and 
impressive ;  and  as  we  knelt  down  in  solemn  prayer, 
offered  up  at  the  close,  the  whole  company  knelt  with 
us.  Then  came  the  usual  congratulations,  warm  greet- 
ings, and  the  social  interchange  of  sentiment  and  feeling. 
A  sumptuous  and  costly  banquet  followed,  where  brilliant 
repartee  and  well-timed  compliment  lost  nothing  from  the 
exhilarating  influence  of  happy  hearts.  No  pains  had 
been  spared  to  render  the  evening  agreeable,  and  the 
effort  was  not  only  fully  appreciated,  but  eminently  suc- 
cessful. Even  Mr.  Tevis,  always  serious  as  eternity,  and 
whom  I  had  never  known  to  laugh,  was  compelled  to 
smile  frequently  at  the  sallies  of  our  ever-mirthful  friend, 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  261 

Captain  Smith,  who  was,  on  that  memorable  evening,  as 
gleeful  as  a  school-boy. 

It  was  impossible  to  be  untouched  by  the  sympathetic 
kindness  of  the  warm-hearted  Virginians  whom  I  had 
known  but  a  few  years;  not  a  solitary  relation  among 
them,  and  yet  there  were  'friends  that  might  be  called 
mothers,  sisters,  and  brothers. 

O  Virginia,  name  ever  dear  to  my  heart,  there  is 
music  in  the  sound.  Why  are  those  events  in  my  past 
history,  connected  with  Virginia  pictures,  so  freshly  and 
beautifully  before  my  eyes  while  others  have  been  swept 
into  oblivion?  It  was  there  beside  the  gushing  mountain 
rill,  in  childhood's  happy  hours,  I  gathered  sweet  forget- 
me-nots  and  pressed  them  between  the  leaves  of  affection. 
There,  in  riper  years  I  tasted  the  joys  of  pure  Christian 
friendship,  and  was  the  recipient  of  that  warm  hospitality 
so  peculiar  to  the  "Old  Dominion."  It  was  there,  too, 
that  I  fully  adopted  Joshua's  resolution  and  registered 
my  determination  to  "serve  the  Lord  all  the  days  of 
my  life." 

We  spent  one  quiet  day  at  "The  Meadows,"  and 
started  early  the  following  morning  upon  our  wedding- 
trip  to  Greenfield,  expecting  to  receive  the  congratula- 
tions of  a  few  pious  friends,  and  to  attend  a  quarterly- 
meeting  then  in  progress.  It  was  a  delightful  Spring 
morning,  unusually  mild  for  the  season.  The  scenery 
was  magnificent,  touched  by  the  light  of  two  happy 
hearts.  As  we  rode  on,  sometimes  in  silence,  I  felt  an 
inexpressible  peace  in  the  comfortable  assurance  that  we 
were  directed  by  Providence  in  the  step  we  had  taken. 
Why  was  it  that,  when  driven  to  the  necessity  of  teach- 
ing for  a  support,  I  had  found  a  home  in  the  Western 
corner  of  Virginia  instead  of  among  my  own  people,  who 


262  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

knew  my  qualifications  and  could  have  aided  me  in  build- 
ing up  a  reputation  ?  Why  was  it  that  my  husband,  after 
having  traveled  several  years  in  Ohio  and  Kentucky  as 
an  acceptable  preacher,  should  have  been  transferred  to 
the  Western  District  without  having  asked  or  desired  it, 
commencing  his  career  as  Presiding  Elder  of  the  Holston 
District  the  same  year  that  I  began  my  school  at  Wythe- 
ville?  And  why  did  we  two,  total  strangers,  meet  in 
Abingdon  under  circumstances  so  favorable  to  the  devel- 
opment of  a  personal  interest  in  each  other,  which  ended 
in  an  agreement  to  walk  life's  pilgrimage  together? 
Surely  Providence  would  smile  upon  a  companionship 
of  sympathetic  souls  actuated  by  the  noblest  motives  and 
purest  principles. 

I  have  often  wondered  that  people  talk  so  much  of 
wedding  paraphernalia,  magnificent  establishments,  and  a 
grand  position  in  the  world,  as  the  things  most  desirable 
in  married  Ife,  as  if  the  only  object  in  view  was  to  live  at 
ease;  and  now  I  felt  fully  convinced  of  the  folly  of  such 
anticipations  and  desires,  and,  from  my  inmost  soul, 
indorsed  what  I  had  often  said  before,  that  I  would  rather 
be  the  wife  of  a  faithful,  devoted  missionary  of  the  cross, 
poor  though  he  might  be  in  this  world's  goods, — yea, 
the  wife  of  even  a  Methodist  itinerant,  darn  his  stockings, 
patch  his  elbows,  and  brush  his  threadbare  coat, — than  be 
clothed  in  purple  and  fine  linen,  and  fare  sumptuously 
every  day,  if  I  might  only  be  an  humble  instrument  in 
aiding  him  to  promote  the  highest  interests  of  mankind. 
I  was  happier  then,  far  happier,  riding  on  my  saddle- 
bags, than  if  I  had  been  rolling  in  a  coach  with  footmen 
and  outriders.  I  neither  wished  nor  expected  a  life  of 
inglorious  ease;  on  the  contrary,  I  was  charmed  with 
the  prospect  of  being  a  colaborer  in  Christ's  vineyard 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  263 

with  one  who  had  adopted  as  his  motto,  "Earnestness 
is  life." 

Neither  of  us  had  any  sympathy  with  that  tranquillity 
never  ruffled  by  a  storm  nor  dimmed  by  a  passing  cloud. 
We  both  felt  that  life  under  such  circumstances  would 
become  insipid,  the  spirit  of  action  droop,  and  the  slight- 
est annoyances  and  molestations  become  real  misfortunes. 
We  must  have  something  to  do,  as  a  means  of  stimulat- 
ing the  slumbering  energies  of  human  nature.  How 
admirable  is  earnestness  in  the  pursuit  of  noble  objects, 
when  guided  by  the  wisdom  that  prompts  the  heart  to 
fervent  prayer  and  the  hand  to  deeds  of  self-denying 
goodness!  Firmness  with  intelligence,  dignity  in  princi- 
ple, sincerity  in  faith,  and  buoyancy  in  hope, — these  are 
the  true  springs  of  action. 

We  talked  of  our  future  plans;  I  promising  never  to 
interrupt  his  itinerant  course,  while  it  was  agreed  that  I 
should  continue  my  vocation  as  a  teacher,  by  locating  in 
the  beautiful  village  of  Shelbyville,  within  two  miles  of 
the  home  of  his  aged  parents.  All  these  plans  were  car- 
ried out.  I  do  not  think  he  ever  preached  a  sermon  less, 
and,  thank  God !  there  was  never  any  impediment  in  his 
having,  as  St.  Paul  would  say,  "a  wife  to  lead  about." 
We  were  happy  then  in  arranging  these  plans;  happier, 
under  God's  blessing,  in  being  able  to  carry  them  out. 
How  fully  we  realized  the  sweet  promise,  ' '  Seek  first  the 
kingdom  of  God,  and  all  these  things  shall  be  added  unto 
you,"  will  be  seen  in  the  course  of  my  biography. 

On  Monday  we  returned  to  our  usual  vocations — he 
to  his  district  appointments,  and  I  to  my  school-room. 
"The  Meadows"  was  now,  by  cordial  invitation,  a  home 
for  both  of  us;  yet  Mr.  Tevis  could  be  there  only  at 
long  intervals,  as  his  district,  comprising  nine  hundred 


264  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

square  miles,  required  not  only  celerity  of  movement, 
but  constant  work.  A  presiding  elder  in  those  days 
preached  usually  one  and  sometimes  two  sermons  every 
day,  besides  attending  quarterly -meetings;  whereas  now 
the  districts  are  so  much  smaller  that  the  presiding  elder 
is  only  required  to  attend  his  quarterly -meetings,  and 
seldom  has  an  appointment  during  the  week,  giving  him 
an  opportunity  of  resting  ten  or  twelve  days  at  a  time. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  265 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

IN  May  Mr.  Tevis  left  for  Baltimore,  being  a  delegate 
to  the  General  Conference  which  met  there  in  1824. 
This  was  very  agreeable  to  him,  as,  in  addition  to  the 
pleasure  of  meeting  brethren  from  all  parts  of  the  United 
States  and  delegates  from  the  British  Wesleyan  Method- 
ists, it  afforded  him  an  opportunity  of  seeing  two  of  his 
brothers,  who  resided  there. 

My  school  duties  prevented  my  accompanying  him ; 
but  we  arranged  to  meet  on  his  return  at  Wytheville, 
where  he,  as  well  as  myself,  had  many  warm  friends.  I 
was  to  go  as  far  as  Wythe  with  Mrs.  Smith  and  family, 
who  were  to  leave  home  about  that  time  for  their  usual 
Summer  trip. 

The  rapidly  revolving  weeks  soon  brought  the  wished- 
for  period,  and  we  started  on  our  journey;  but  we  met 
with  a  woful  disappointment  by  a  breakdown  a  few  miles 
from  home,  making  it  necessary  to  return  for  a  new  con- 
veyance, less  elegant,  but  more  substantial.  This  detained 
us  two  days.  Meantime  Mr.  Tevis,  who  was  punctuality 
itself,  reached  Wythe,  and,  not  rinding  me  there,  was 
obliged,  after  waiting  one  day,  to  go  back  forty  miles,  to 
attend  an  appointment,  without  seeing  me.  When  this 
was  told  to  old  Mother  Russell,  who,  by  the  by,  always 
insisted  that  he  might  have  served  God  better  in  single 
blessedness,  she  clappped  her  hands  and  shouted  aloud, 
exclaiming  that  she  knew  her  elder  loved  the  Church 
better  than  he  did  his  wife. 


266  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

Two  days  later  I  reached  Wytheville,  and  had  to  wait 
patiently  until  my  husband  should  be  released  from  his 
Church  duties.  I  knew  he  would  be  prompt  in  coming 
to  me.  Early  Monday  morning  I  was  awakened  by  the 
sweet,  musical  voice  of  a  dear  little  four-year-old  girl  of* 
Captain  Mathews,  who  came  running  into  my  room, 
clapping  her  hands  and  crying  out,  "Get  up,  lady,  get 
up,  quick;  man  down  stairs  want  to  see  you."  I  hastened 
down,  and,  sure  enough,  found  Mr.  Tevis,  who  had  driven 
nearly  all  night,  after  the  meeting  was  concluded,  that  he 
might  breakfast  with  me.  Not  then,  nor  ever,  did  he 
neglect  the  smallest  duty  for  pleasure,  and  yet  he  was  as 
fervent  in  affection  as  ardent  in  zeal. 

After  a  few  days  spent  in  social  intercourse,  and  in 
the  enjoyment  of  that  sanctified  Christian  friendship  which 
will  beam  more  brightly  and  glow  more  warmly  in  heaven, 
we  returned  to  "The  Meadows,"  where  we  had  been  so 
pressingly  urged  "to  be  at  home"  during  the  absence  of 
the  family.  The  good  "lady  of  the  manor"  had  not 
only  said,  "Occupy  till  I  come,"  but  had  made  ample 
arrangements  for  our  comfort  and  convenience  before  she 
left,  placing  every  thing  at  our  disposal. 

Our  return  was  hailed  by  the  servants  with  unmingled 
delight.  Scarcely  had  the  sound  of  the  wheels  that 
whirled  us  over  the  graveled  walk  reached  their  ears, 
when  they  came  with  their  glowing  welcomes,  crowding 
the  doorway  and  hovering  around  the  carriage.  Old 
Aggy,  one  of  the  privileged  characters  of  the  establish- 
ment, such  as  are  frequently  found  in  Southern  families, 
noted  for  their  devotion. to  "massa"  and  "missus,"  had 
every  thing  in  perfect  order  for  our  reception.  Aggy 
was  reverenced  and  respected  by  the  colored  folks,  and 
trusted  by  the  white  ones.  Ever  faithful  and  true  to  the 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  267 

family,  more  than  usual  honor  had  been  heaped  upon 
her.  Filling  the  place  of  an  under -housekeeper,  she 
carried  an  enormous  bunch  of  keys  at  her  girdle,  which 
usually  announced  her  appearance  by  their  jingling. 
Aggy  was  one  of  the  persons  who  scorned  the  fashion 
of  narrow  skirts  and  sober  colors.  Her  gay  red  calicoes 
were  full  and  ample;  and  as  a  matter  of  curiosity,  when- 
ever the  shuffling  of  her  slippers  was  heard,  every  eye 
was  turned  towards  her  shining,  good-humored,  black 
face,  surmounted  by  a  red  Madras  handkerchief.  Shoes 
she  had  renounced  because  of  a  severe  fall  "once  upon 
a  time,"  caused  by  the  slipping  of  her  high  heels  upon 
the  waxed  floor.  Coming  into  the  dining-room  one  day, 
she  fell  prostrate,  to  the  infinite  amusement  of  the  com- 
pany. "Save  the  wine!"  exclaimed  one  of  the  guests; 
and  she  did  save  it,  holding  up  the  bottles  to  the  extent 
of  her  two  polished  ebony  arms.  Arising,  and  retreating 
rapidly,  she  had  another  fall  before  she  vanished. 

Aggy's  husband,  familiarly  termed  "Old  Billy,"  was 
a  perfect  specimen  of  conjugal  devotion;  but  considered 
it  a  positive  duty  "to  dress  her,"  as  he  called  it, 
occasionally,  at  the  risk  of  being  himself  re-dressed. 
Billy,  who  was  one  of  the  ugliest  and  sternest  and 
blackest  of  his  race,  being  a  sort  of  major-domo  over  the 
darkies  in  general,  kept  up  a  strict  regimen  in  his  own 
family.  One  morning,  during  the  absence  of  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Smith,  the  most  awful  screams  were  heard  from 
Billy's  cottage,  mingled  with  the  sound  of  the  lash.  Mrs. 
Smith's  brother  ran  in  haste  to  the  scene  of  action,  and 
found  him  whipping  his  wife  severely.  "Stop!  stop, 
you  barbarous  old  wretch,  quit  that  instantly!"  Aggy 
ceasing  her  cries  and  turned  fiercely  around,  said,  "Go 
'long  'way  from  here,  Massa  Joe;  Billy  shall  whip  me 


268  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

whenever  he  pleas'  to."  "Be  it  so,"  said  the  young  man, 
and  left  the  affectionate  couple  to  settle  it  themselves. 

We  had  now  a  beautiful  gig,  light,  but  strong,  and 
well  fitted  for  journeying  over  rough  roads,  and  a  strong 
gentle  horse,  the  gift  of  our  excellent  brother  Benjamin 
Tevis,  of  Baltimore,  who  had  long  before  acknowledged 
his  brotherly  affection  for  me  by  frequent  letters,  and  in 
the  more  tangible  form  of  beautiful  and  valuable  presents, 
the  exponents  of  his  life-long  kindness  and  generosity 
to  us. 

As  Mr.  Tevis  was  seldom  at  home,  I  should  have  felt 
lonely  during  the  absence  of  the  family,  but  for  the 
kindness  of  my  Abingdon  friends,  who  kept  up  a  cordial 
intercourse  by  frequent  interchange  of  visits;  besides,  I 
was  much  occupied  in  striving  to  fit  myself  for  a  more 
extended  sphere  of  usefulness  as  a  teacher.  Looking 
upon  the  bright  side  of  every  thing,  the  dew-drops  of 
hope,  reflecting  the  sunlight  of  happiness,  formed  a  glit- 
tering bow  of  promise  that  spanned  the  gulf  between  the 
present  and  the  future.  The  discipline  of  my  life  had 
been  salutary;  the  foundation  had  been  laid  deep  and 
firm  by  the  hand  of  necessity,  not  choice,  and  thus  I  was 
gradually  prepared  by  Providence  to  perform  a  work  that 
my  heart,  strong,  proud,  and  self-commanding,  would 
gladly  have  rejected.  I  had  marked  out  a  different 
course  of  action  from  that  of  the  toilsome  thorny  path 
of  a  teacher,  the  anticipated  confinement  and  drudgery 
of  which  was  not  at  all  to  my  taste.  But  misfortune 
and  sorrow  came  to  tear  aside  the  thin  delusions  of  my 
own  conceit,  and  I  have  learned  the  glorious  truth,  that 
"labor  is  the  grand  pedestal  of  God's  blessings  upon 
earth."  There  are  .few  blessings  in  life  unalloyed,  few 
trials  unmixed.  The  good  we  sometimes  ardently  desire 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  269 

has  an  unseen  evil  which  will  rise  to  cloud  it  in  the  very 
moment  of  possession,  and  the  evil  we  deprecate  pro- 
duces some  happy  effect  which  does  not  always  cease 
when  its  immediate  cause  is  withdrawn.  If  Ephraim-like 
we  cling  to  o.ur  idols  we  perish  with  them;  but  if  we 
cease  to  strive  against  the  dealings  of  Providence,  crooked 
paths  will  be  made  straight.  God's  time  and  will  are 
beautiful,  and  through  the  darkest  clouds  of  judgment 
gleams  of  mercy  often  come. 

Early  one  Summer  morning  I  was  taking  a  drive  with 
Mrs.  Branch  to  the  house  of  a  friend,  where  we  were  to 
spend  the  day  and  night.  We  were  wending  our  way 
slowly  that  we  might  enjoy  the  delightful  scenery,  and 
as  I  felt  that  this  was  probably  the  last  time  I  should 
ever  pass  along  this  beautifully  shaded  road,  I  was 
silently  enjoying  the  sights  and  sounds  of  nature.  Sud- 
denly the  sound  of  wheels  attracted  our  attention.  In  a 
few  moments  we  met  a  stranger  of  gentlemanly  appear- 
ance, driving  a  weary-looking  horse  as  if  he  had  traveled 
far.  A  genteel  servant  on  horseback  followed  the  mas- 
ter's gig.  The  gentleman  passed  slowly,  acknowledging 
our  appearance  by  a  polite  touch  of  his  hat.  We  turned 
involuntarily  to  look  after  the  passing  stranger,  and 
found  him  also  looking  back  at  us.  Who  could  it  be 
traveling  this  out-of-the-way  road?  "He  resembles  your 
husband,"  said  Mrs.  Branch;  "I  wonder  if  he  can  be  a 
relation?"  We  discussed  the  matter  no  further,  but  on 
our  return  the  next  day  we  found  the  stranger  to  be  my 
brother-in-law,  Mr.  Joshua  Tevis,  on  his  return  to  Balti- 
more, from  Kentucky.  He  came  through  the  wilderness 
road  that  he  might  make  the  acquaintance,  as  he  afterwards 
told  us,  of  his  brother  John's  wife.  He  rendered  himself 
very  agreeable  by  a  cordial  recognition  of  our  relationship. 

18 


270  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

My  brother  being  anxious  to  see  Mother  Russell,  of 
whose  eccentricities  he  had  heard  so  much,  I  readily 
consented  to  accompany  him  to  her  house.  That  we 
might  have  an  hour  to  spend  with  this  good  old  lady, 
and  afterwards  dine  with  a  relative  at  the  Sulphur  Springs, 
we  breakfasted  at  early  dawn,  and  were  on  our  way  in 
time  to  greet  the  rising  sun.  We  enjoyed  greatly  this 
reveille  of  nature,  and  pitied  the  indolent  sleepers  who 
lost  the  opportunity  of  drinking  in  these  pure  libations 
of  the  morning.  A  brisk  drive  of  a  few  hours  brought 
us  to  the  humble  dwelling  of  Mother  Russell.  Her  door 
stood  wide  open ;  no  liveried  footman  announced  her 
visitors,  though  she  belonged  to  one  of  the  wealthiest 
families  of  the  land.  We  were  met  upon  the  threshold 
by  her  cordial  welcome,  and,  after  the  introduction  of  my 
brother-in-law,  she  exclaimed,  "What!  another  brother 
Tevis?  How  kind  to  come  eighteen  miles  just  to  see  a 
plain  old  woman!"  This  was  heartfelt,  and  blended  with 
the  most  refined  and  polite  cordiality.  There  was  a 
dignity  and  gravity  that  would  have  graced  any  drawing- 
room — forbidding  alike  criticism  and  familiarity. 

Brother  Joshua  was  charmed,  and  the  conversation 
flowed  smoothly  onward,  touching  upon  various  inter- 
esting topics.  Patrick  Henry  was  thoroughly  discussed, 
and  then  she  talked  of  Colonel  Campbell,  General  Rus- 
sell, and  other  distinguished  revolutionists,  of  whom  she 
gave  many  interesting  anecdotes  unknown  to  us  before; 
thence,  by  an  easy  transition,  she  introduced  the  theme 
of  religion,  and  from  other  denominations  proceeded  to 
speak  of  the  Methodists.  "They  are  a  distinct  people, 
brother;  disrobing  themselves  of  all  worldly  honors,  they 
seek  no  popular  favor,  no  splendid  vestments  of  purple 
interwoven  with  gold,  no  distinction  save  that  of  being 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  271 

the  true  worshipers  of  God.  How  noble  is  simplicity, 
brother — simplicity  of  dress  as  well  as  manners."  My 
brother  tried  to  conceal  his  linen  cambric  ruffles,  and 
quietly  folded  his  vest  over  a  diamond  breast-pin  which 
sparkled  in  the  sunlight.  "Formerly,"  she  continued, 
"the  Methodists  were  few  and  scattered,  but  now  they 
have  become  a  great  people,  and  just  as  far  as  the  human 
foot  has  trod  the  soil  there's  the  Methodist." 

An  hour  had  passed;  she  arose  from  her  seat,  and, 
solemnly  raising  her  hands,  asked  my  terrified  brother  to 
lead  in  prayer.  I  declined  for  him,  and  the  old  lady 
prayed  herself,  mentioning  his  name  first,  praying  that  he 
might  have  more  courage  in  the  performance  of  his  duty, 
and  that  his  mouth  might  be  filled  with  prayer  and 
thanksgiving.  Her  voice  was  strong,  her  prayer  solemn 
and  impressive,  notwithstanding  her  peculiar  manner  of 
mentioning,  by  name,  each  person  for  whom  she  prayed; 
and  we  arose  from  our  knees  full  of  reverence  for  this 
remarkable  woman.  I  am  sure  Joshua  never  forgot  that 
visit  of  an  hour  spent  within  the  holy  atmosphere  of 
this  aged  Christian's  home.  After  a  few  more  days  of 
pleasant  intercourse  he  left  us  for  his  home  in  Baltimore. 

Finally,  came  the  last  camp-meeting  of  the  district, 
and,  as  we  were  to  leave  for  Kentucky  immediately  after, 
it  was  a  season  of  great  interest  to  me.  I  did  not 
remain  on  the  camp-ground,  but  was  hospitably  enter- 
tained at  the  house  of  an  old  Baptist  friend,  Father  New- 
land,  a  most  remarkable  man,  who  deserves  more  than  a 
passing  notice.  He  was  upwards  of  ninety,  but  vigorous 
and  active,  enjoying  a  green  old  age.  Both  his  wife  and 
himself  reminded  me  of  the  primitive  Christians.  Exhib- 
iting the  true  spirit  of  the  Gospel,  they  were  not  forgetful 
of  entertaining  strangers,  and  had  a  prophet's  room  ever 


272  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

ready  for  the  itinerant  messengers  of  grace,  of  whatever 
denomination. 

At  early  dawn,  after  my  first  night's  rest  under  his 
roof,  I  was  awakened  by  the  stentorian  voice  of  the 
old  patriarch,  "O  folks,  come  to  prayers!  You  John, 
Dick,  Harry,  Lucy,  Dinah — come,  all  come!"  Hastily 
dressing  and  coming  down  into  the  family  room,  I  found 
the  assembled  household,  and  among  them  many  dusky 
figures,  whose  ebony  faces  evinced  the  deepest  interest, 
as,  with  bowed  heads,  they  listened  to  their  master's 
instruction.  With  distended  eyes  and  reverential  wonder 
they  heard  his  comments  upon  the  lesson  read  from  the 
Book  of  Life.  What  an  example  for  those  more  elevated 
in  the  scale  of  intelligence. 

The  chanty  of  this  Christian  master  for  his  slaves 
resembled  the  sun  bathing  in  floods  of  glory,  not  only  the 
nearest  worlds  but  irradiating  light  and  heat  to  the 
remotest  planet  of  its  system.  He  read  a  portion  of  the 
twelfth  chapter  of  St.  Luke,  and  dwelt  particularly  upon 
the  parable  of  the  rich  man,  whose  grounds  brought 
forth  plentifully.  His  occasional  parenthetical  comments 
ran  thus:  "Pull  down  his  barns,  indeed!  Why  didn't 
he  feed  God's  poor  with  the  surplus? — wrong,  all  wrong! 
bad  man,  didn't  deserve  to  be  rich!  'Soul,  take  thine 
ease.'  Fool!  talking  to  his  soul  like  it  was  a  dog  or 
cat!  Take  thine  ease!  Yes,  listen,  folks:  'This  night 
thy  soul  shall  be  required  of  thee,' — oh,  terrible!  and 
where  did  it  take  its  ease?  why,  in  hell-fire,  to  be  sure." 
And  then  he  exhorted  all  to  be  faithful  servants  of  God's 
bounty,  and  closed  the  service  by  offering  up  a  short, 
but  fervent  prayer,  master  and  servant  kneeling  before 
heaven's  eternal  King.  Then  commenced  the  business 
of  the  day,  everything  moving  on  pleasantly.  No  jarring 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  273 

string  interrupted  the  harmony  of  this  good  old  pa- 
triarch's family.  After  these  pious  morning  exercises 
every  worldly  duty  seemed  sanctified. 

Camp-meeting  was  usually  the  time  selected  by  all 
the  mothers  of  the  country  around  to  have  their  children 
baptized,  making  the  occasion  as  public  as  possible;  and 
many  thought  they  could  give  no  greater  evidence  of 
devotion  to  the  Church,  nor  evince  greater  respect  and 
esteem  for  their  presiding  minister  than  to  give  their 
boys  his  name.  I  was  told  recently,  by  a  friend,  that  my 
husband,  while  traveling  the  Holston  District,  baptized 
not  less  than  twenty  at  one  camp-meeting  that  were 
named  for  himself — a  severe  test,  I  am  sure,  of  his  modest 
humility,  and  no  matter  for  boasting,  for  I  never  heard 
him  speak  of  it. 

The  closing  scenes  of  this  meeting,  the  last  we 
attended  in  Virginia,  away  off  from  the  busy  haunts 
of  men,  amid  the  wild  and  rugged  scenery  of  Wythe 
County,  can  never  be  forgotten.  Many  of  the  old 
Christians  seemed  to  tread  upon  the  very  threshold  of 
heaven,  their  souls  holding  meet  communion  with  God, 
while  many  hearts  overflowed  with  rapture  unexpressed, 
save  in  the  thrilling  hymn  and  the  bursting  eloquence  of 
sobs  and  tears.  The  aged  forest  bowed  its  lofty  head  in 
reverence  and  waved  its  trembling  arms  on  high  as  if  to 
join  in  the  general  praise  to  the  great  Creator.  How 
deep  the  well-spring  of  eternal  love!  Oh,  that  we  might 
drink  more  of  these  pure  waters  while  on  earth!  I  had 
often  heard  of  that  sanctified  love,  which  lifts  the  soul  so 
far  above  this  world  as  to  give  it  a  glimpse  of  the  green 
vales  and  still  waters  of  that  celestial  paradise  promised 
to  the  children  of  God.  I  doubted  it  before,  I  be- 
lieved it  then. 


274  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

THE  green  glories  of  Summer  were  fast  fading  into 
the  sober  hues  of  Autumn  when  the  absent  family 
returned  to  "The  Meadows,"  and  the  time  of  our  de- 
parture drew  near.  I  longed  to  go  to  my  Kentucky 
home,  but  dreaded  leaving  my  Virginia  friends.  I  vis- 
ited again  and  again  each  familiar  nook  and  glen — hal- 
lowed spots  where  I  had  so  often  enjoyed  a  book  or 
indulged  in  those  pleasing  dreams  that  creep  impercep- 
tibly into  the  heart  and  hold  the  imagination  entranced 
in  delightful,  irresistible  delusions,  full  of  rapture,  variety, 
and  beauty.  My  footsteps  lingered  beside  the  spring- 
brook — the  sweetest  that  "ever  sang  the  sunny  hours 
away;"  I  wandered  through  the  quiet  garden,  among 
those  brilliant  Autumn  flowers  whose  rich  colors  I  had 
often  admired  on  the  very  verge  of  Winter,  and  inhaled 
for  the  last  time  the  aromatic  breath  of  many  fragrant 
herbs  which  I  had  found  here  and  nowhere  else.  My 
eyes  rested,  for  the  last  time,  upon  the  misty  ridge  in  the 
blue  distance,  up  whose  rugged  sides  I  should  never 
climb  again  to  gather  the  blooming  laurel  and  the  wild 
honeysuckle  that  looked  so  lovely  in  the  dancing  sun- 
beams, and  upon  whose  brow  the  daylight  loved  to  linger. 
I  knew  not,  up  to  the  hour  of  parting,  how  much  it 
would  cost  me  to  sever  the  ties  that  bound  me  to  my 
Abingdon  friends.  I  particularly  regretted  that  Mary's 
unfinished  education  must  be  completed  by  another,  who. 


SIXTY  YEARS  JN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  275 

I  feared,  would  neither  understand  her  capacity  nor  love 
her  as  I  did.  Young  as  she  was,  she  was  capable  of  the 
strongest  attachments.  I  had  been  her  almost  constant 
companion  for  three  years,  and  had  never  noticed  more 
than  a  passing  shadow  cloud  her  brow ;  but  now  that  she 
anticipated  a  separation  for  years,  and  perhaps  for  life, 
from  one  whom  she  had  learned  to  love  with  a  confiding 
affection,  she  was  dissolved  in  tears  and  felt  a  sorrow 
hitherto  unknown. 

My  mind  frequently  reverts  to  Mary  and  her  little 
cousins,  coming  up  to  my  idea  of  happy  childhood.  Their 
voices  were  the  very  echo  of  joyous  thoughts.  No  dark- 
ness pervaded  the  household  that  was  not  dissipated  by 
the  sweet  smiles  and  merry  voices  of  these  lovely  children. 

My  heart  was  fully  satisfied  with  the  lot  I  had  chosen, 
and  perfectly  stayed  upon  ' '  that  best  earthly  friend  whom 
God  had  given  me,"  but  my  cup  of  happiness  was  dashed 
with  a  taste  of  bitterness  that  belongs  to  this  probationary 
state;  and,  so  sorrowful  was  I  at  being  separated  from 
those  whose  kindness  was  now  like  a  living  picture  before 
me,  that  for  the  time  I  could  not  rejoice  in  the  bright- 
ness of  my  future  prospects. 

Days,  months,  and  years  have  rolled  on,  new  scenes 
and  new  situations  have  occupied  my  busy  mind ;  but  the 
associations,  thoughts,  and  experiences,  "linked  by  a 
hidden  chain"  to  this  period  of  my  life,  and  "lulled  in 
the  countless  chambers  of  the  brain,"  can  never  be  ob- 
literated. "Awake  but  one,  and,  lo !  what  myriads 
arise!"  A  moving  panorama  of  intense  interest  passes 
in  review.  Precious  forms,  that  have  long  rested  in  the 
deep  shadows  of  the  grave,  start  into  life  before  me  pale, 
purified,  passionless  as  the  angels  of  heaven,  faces  beam- 
ing with  love  and  eyes  kindling  with  spiritual  beaut)-, 


276  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

hallowed  presences  inciting  me  to  holier  thoughts  and 
more  fervent  aspirations  after  heaven  and  immortality. 

Some  of  my  happiest  school-vacations  were  spent 
among  my  friends  and  relatives  in  Eastern  Virginia,  and 
some  of  the  most  sorrowful  as  well  as  happiest  hours  of 
my  life  were  spent  in  the  south-western  part  of  the  State 
Thus  the  name  to  me,  like  that  of  the  beloved  and 
"beautiful  City"  to  the  Jews,  is  not  a  mere  lifeless  ab- 
straction of  the  head,  but  a  sacred  and  delightful  image 
engraven  on  the  heart.  'Tis  the  soul  that  gives  tenacity 
to  the  memory  as  well  as  activity  to  the  understanding; 
and  hence  it  is  that  Virginia  rises  before  me  so  distinctly 
the  morning  star  of  memory. 

I  spent  no  tiresome  days  packing  and  repacking.  Our 
limited  wardrobe,  though  sufficient  for  neatness  and  com- 
fort, was  easily  stored  away  in  a  small .  trunk  which  just 
fitted  behind  the  gig,  while  one  still  more  tiny  served  me 
as  a  foot-stool.  The  gig-box  comfortably  accommodated 
our  few  books;  thus  we  had  quite  enough  baggage  for 
our  mountain  journey. 

A  few  friends  accompanied  us  the  first  day's  journey, 
tarrying  all  night  at  Mr.  Campbell's,  there  to  bid  us  a 
second  farewell  the  next  morning. 

We  looked  forward  to  a  journey  of  three  hundred 
miles,  but  "we  dreaded  no  lion  in  the  way."'  The  light 
of  God's  countenance  was  upon  us.  The  first  day,  how- 
ever, was  passed  in  subdued  sadness,  mingled  with  the 
deepest  gratitude,  little  interrupted  by  conversation. 
Memory  reviewed  the  past,  and  hope  was  busy  weaving 
golden  threads  into  the  web  of  our  future  lives.  We 
were  traveling  onward  amidst  sublime  scenery.  Mount- 
ains clothed  with  trees  whose  gorgeous  and  many-tinted 
foliage  rustled  in  the  Autumn  wind.  Deep  ravines,  sil- 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  277 

very  streams,  chestnut  trees  loaded  with  their  rich  fruit 
just  ready  for  gathering,  flinging  their  shadowy  arms  far 
out  across  our  pathway,  with  occasional  sprinklings  of 
wild  flowers  by  the  road-side,  the  stimulating  fragrance 
of  pennyroyal  and  mountain-balm,  all  seemed  combined 
to  steep  our  senses  in  pleasant  thpughtfulness.  Occasion- 
ally we  read  while  passing  slowly  over  a  rocky  road,  and 
as  we  traveled  on  an  average  only  thirty  miles  a  day,  we 
had  time  to  enjoy,  to  the  fullest  extent,  the  beauties 
and  glories  by  which  we  were  surrounded.  Our  brave 
horse  bore  himself  admirably,  not  appearing  wayworn, 
because  he  was  well  cared  for  by  his  master,  who  never 
sought  his  own  rest  until  his  horse  was  properly  pro- 
vided for. 

The  wilderness  through  which  we  passed  was  sparsely 
settled,  yet  Mr.  Tevis  had  so  often  traveled  through  it 
that  he  had  friends  at  every  stopping-place,  making  it 
unnecessary  for  us  to  travel  by  night.  One  very  sultry 
day  we  stopped  for  dinner  at  a  little  wayside  tavern,  ap- 
parently lost  among  the  mountains,  there  being  no  neigh- 
bors within  many  miles.  I  passed  immediately  into  an 
inner  room  for  a  nap  and  left  Mr.  Tevis  reading  in  the 
vine-covered  porch,  at  one  end  of  which  was  the  bar- 
room, the  rendezvous  of  all  straggling  guests. 

I  was  soon  aroused  from  my  light  slumbers  by  a  rough 
voice  uttering  the  most  blasphemous  oaths  in  conversa- 
tion with  his  fellows ;  and  then  I  heard  my  husband  speak. 
Listening  in  breathless  silence  to  his  pointed  reproof  and 
solemn  admonitions  to  this  profane  swearer,  my  heart 
sank  within  me  for  fear  of  a  difficulty  in  this  lonely  place. 
The  ruffian,  however,  made  no  reply;  he  seemed  dumb 
with  astonishment.  My  terror  may  well  be  imagined, 
when,  called  to  dinner,  I  saw  a  great,  rough-looking  man, 


278  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

a  perfect  Anak,  with  a  shock  of  fiery  red  hair,  and  eyes 
as  fierce  as  burning  volcanoes,  come  in  and  seat  him- 
self just  opposite  me.  He  ate  but  little;  and,  though 
with  trembling  anxiety,  I  showed  him  more  than  ordinary 
politeness.  He  answered  in  monosyllables,  and  was  con- 
tinually glancing  from  under  his  shaggy  brows  at  Mr. 
Tevis,  who  maintained  the  greatest  composure  without 
bestowing  on  him  a  word  or  a  look.  As  we  arose  from 
the  table  I  could  have  screamed  in  an  agony  of  fear,  had 
I  dared,  as  I  saw  him  take  hold  of  my  husband's  arm, 
saying,  "Will  you  walk  a  piece  with  me,  stranger?" 
"Certainly,  sir,"  was  the  reply.  They  were  gone  more 
than  twenty  minutes — it  seemed  an  hour  to  me — when 
I  saw  them  returning,  apparently  in  friendly  conversation. 

Our  carriage  was  at  the  door,  and,  as  we  stepped  into 
it,  the  man,  standing  at  our  horse's  head,  said,  as  he  gave 
us  a  parting  wave  of  his  hand,  ' '  God  bless  you,  sir,  and 
madam;  I  wish  you  a  safe  journey;  I  shall  never  forget." 

I  learned,  to  my  astonishment,  that  he  not  only  felt 
the  admonition  so  solemnly  given,  but  took  occasion  to 
satisfy  his  conscience  by  telling  Mr.  Tevis  that  he  had  a 
pious,  widowed  mother,  from  whom  he  had  been  separ- 
ated many  years,  who  had  taught  him  in  early  life  to  read 
the  Bible  and  reverence  his  Creator.  These  instructions 
had  long  slumbered  in  waveless  silence,  but  the  words, 
that  day  "spoken  in  season,"  had  stirred  the  very  depths 
of  his  soul  and  brought  back  the  sweet  memories  of  his 
early  childhood,  and  he  said,  "God  being  his  helper,  he 
would  not  only  strive  to  profit  by  the  advice  given,  but 
become  a  praying  man  and  a  Bible-reader." 

That  same  day,  winding  up  the  mountain  road,  we 
met,  at  a  most  inconvenient  place  for  passing,  a  wagon 
and  team  driven  by  as  surly-looking  a  fellow  as  ever 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  279 

cracked  a  whip.  He  bawled  out,  prefacing  what  he  had 
to  say  with  a  vulgar  oath,  "Get  out  of  the  way  with 
that'ar  consarn  of  your'n;  my  leader's  not  goin'  to  pass 
it !  Get  out  of  the  way  or  I  '11  pitch  you  to  the  bottom 
of  never,"  casting  his  eyes,  as  he  spoke,  down  a  preci- 
pice which  seemed  almost  fathomless.  My  heart  beat 
audibly  as  I  seized  Mr.  Tevis's  arm  and  earnestly  begged 
him  not  to  reply.  The  ruffian  evidently  expected  a  diffi- 
culty, for  he  stopped  and  rolled  up  his  sleeves;  but  we 
both  bowed  politely  as  our  vehicle  was  turned  aside.  The 
man  was  astonished,  evidently  touched,  for  he  muttered, 
as  he  returned  our  salutation,  "Well,  now,  you  see,  I 
didn't  mean  to  be  cross,  but  hang  me  if  my  horses  ain't 
scared  now  at  that  queer  thing  you  're  ridin'  in ;  see  how 
my  leader  throws  back  his  ears!"  His  wolfishness  was 
literally  broken  down,  showing  that  silence  as  well  as  a 
soft  answer  turneth  away  wrath.  He  actually  turned  his 
head  to  look  after  and  warn  us  of  a  bad  place  in  the  road, 
wishing  us  a  pleasant  journey.  I  doubted  not  some  good 
seed  was  sown  in  his  heart;  thus  the  golden  opportunity 
was  not  lost. 

We  traveled  several  days  through  some  of  the  wildest 
scenery,  and  some  of  the  most  unfrequented  portions  of 
our  whole  country,  rarely  seeing  a  plowed  field  or  a 
cultivated  spot;  but  hill  and  dale,  mountain  and  valley, 
with  an  occasional  dwelling  surrounded  by  trees  dressed 
in  the  gay  and  bright  livery  of  Autumn.  Our  hearts, 
swelling  with  admiration,  acknowledged  the  beneficence 
of  the  Creator  of  this  world,  so  full  of  grace,  elegance, 
and  sublimity. 

That  same  night  darkness  curtained  the  hills  before 
we  reached  the  place  where  we  expected  to  tarry,  and 
we  were  fain  to  check  up  our  weary  horse  before  a  very 


280  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

uncomfortable  looking  dwelling.  Numerous  white-headed 
urchins  met  us  at  the  threshold  looking  as  wild  as  little 
Arabs.  One  girl  about  ten  years  old  was  lugging  a  great 
baby  on  her  hip,  as  she  hopped  along  after  me  with 
wondering  eyes,  trying  to  carry  some  of  my  luggage  into 
the  only  room  below,  where  we  found  a  good  looking 
old  man  sitting  by  a  bright  fire,  the  most  cheerful  thing 
to  be  seen.  He  called  out  to  the  girl  "to  take  that  'ar 
baby,"  which  was  fretting  and  screaming  at  a  tremendous 
rate,  "to  its  mammy."  "She  won't  take  it,  she's  got 
to  git  something  for  the  strangers  to  eat,  and  she  '11 
whip  me  if  I  go  back."  A  few  broken  chairs,  a  family 
bed,  and  a  deal  table  constituted  the  furniture  of  this 
parlor,  dining-room,  chamber  and  hall ;  not  even  a  Yankee 
clock  ticked  behind  the  door. 

Supper  was  soon  announced,  and  I  sat  down  with  a 
good  appetite  to  rye  coffee,  stewed  rabbit  and  biscuit,  but 
alas !  it  was  soon  cut  short  by  finding  a  dirty  yarn  string 
in  the  first  biscuit  I  opened.  Not  wishing  to  interrupt 
Mr.  Tevis'  supper,  I  turned  silently  away  from  the  table, 
only  to  find  the  mischievous  little  imps  in  my  work 
basket.  Spools,  silk,  tape,  etc.,  were  tumbled  out  pell-mell 
on  the  floor,  one  spool  being  entirely  denuded  of  its  thread. 
"Look  'ere,  'oman, "  cried  a  little  five-year-old,  "what 
a  nice  whirl-i-gig  this  yere  is!"  The  mother  soon  flew 
to  my  assistance,  shook  and  boxed  them  all  around, 
flinging  one  into  a  corner  and  another  on  the  bed,  leav- 
ing me  to  gather  up  as  best  I  could  my  goods  and 
chattels. 

At  my  request  she  took  a  candle  and  showed  me  up  a 
rickety  stairway  into  our  sleeping  apartments,  so  near  the 
broken  roof  that  the  stars  peeped  through  without  let  or 
hinderance.  A  dirty  patch-work  quilt  covered  the  bed, 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  281 

under  which  were  two  blue  yarn  sheets.  What  was  to  be 
done  ?  I  could  not  even  touch  the  bed  until  I  had  spread 
a  clean  pocket  handkerchief  for  my  face,  and  improvised 
a  pair  of  sheets  from  some  clean  clothes  in  my  trunk. 
And  this  was  a  regular  stopping  place  for  travelers! 
"Entertainment  for  man  and  beast!"  The  morning  sun 
found  the  wayworn  travelers  on  their  way  to  seek  a 
breakfast  ten  miles  ahead,  with  some  Methodist  friends 
well  known  for  their  hospitality  and  excellent  fare. 

The  day  that  closed  our  journey  through  the  wilder- 
ness and  marked  our  entrance  into  the  settlements  of 
Kentucky  is  memorable.  Late  in  the  afternoon  we 
reached  a  solitary  mansion  standing  in  the  midst  of  green 
fields,  and  in  the  center  of  a  large  yard  filled  with  forest 
trees.  The  soft  shadows  of  approaching  night  were  in- 
vesting everything  with  a  mysterious  thoughtfulness.  The 
house  stood  about  half  a  mile  from  a  deep  mountain 
gorge,  through  which  we  did  not  like  to  pass  after  night- 
fall, and  as  there  was  no  other  house  within  ten  miles, 
we  proposed  to  spend  the  night  here.  Our  request  was 
refused  upon  the  plea  that  there  was  no  room  for  us. 
The  yard  was  full  of  people  as  a  wedding  was  to  take 
place  that  evening,  and  we  two  poor  solitary  wayfarers 
with  our  little  gig  and  horse  could  not  stay;  "it  was 
moonlight,  we  need  not  fear,"  they  said,  "and  we  could 
be  better  accommodated  at  the  next  stopping  place." 
In  vain  we  entreated,  urging  the  weariness  of  our  horse 
and  his  unfitness  to  tread  the  rocky  road  before  him.  One 
of  the  bystanders  whispered,  with  a  knowing  wink  at  Mr. 
Tevis,  that  there  was  to  be  a  dance;  the  broad  brim  and 
straight  coat  would  be  in  the  way.  The  rights  of  hos- 
pitality to  strangers  could  not  be  exercised  at  this  place 
at  the  expense  of  pleasure.  My  heart  sank  within  me  at 


282  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

the  prospect  of  passing  several  hours  en  route  through 
that  lonely  ravine;  but  my  husband,  in  whose  piety  and 
prayers  I  firmly  believed,  and  my  never  failing  faith  in 
God's  protecting  providence,  quieted  my  fears  as  onward 
we  went. 

Already  the  drowsy  tinkling  bell  was  heard,  as  the 
sheep-boy  whistling  leisurely  followed  his  flock  to  the 
fold,  admonishing  us  to  hasten.  The  last  rays  of  the 
setting  sun  had  vanished,  the  rocks,  and  dells,  and  se- 
cluded places  began  to  darken  in  the  glow  of  twilight; 
but  in  a  short  time  the  beams  of  a  full  moon,  reflected 
from  the  gigantic  cliffs  and  distant  tree  tops,  silvered 
every  object  they  touched,  mellowing,  softening,  spiritu- 
alizing the  realities  around  us  into  airy  creations.  The 
winds  were  asleep  and  the  moonlight  glanced  and  shim- 
mered through  the  trees  that  clothed  the  steep  sides  of 
the  mountain  up  to  the  topmost  battlements. 

The  road  was  over  the  bed  of  a  shallow  stream  which 
passed  all  the  way  through  the  gorge,  seeming  to  issue 
from  some  exhaustless  source,  the  ripple  growing  louder 
as  the  stillness  of  the  night  increased.  The  horse's  hoofs 
struck  against  the  pebbly  bottom  of  the  mountain  stream, 
the  valley  rang  with  the  echo,  and  we  caught  the  faint 
return  made  by  the  more  distant  hills.  The  softness  and 
beauty  of  this  moonlight  night,  combined  with  the  mysteri- 
ous wildness  of  the  scenery,  made  glorious  revelations  to 
our  devotional  hearts;  yes,  sweet  and  solemn  revelations 
through  light  and  shade,  with  prophetic  intimations  of 
the  still  brighter  glories  that  lie  beyond,  reminding  me 
now  of  those  beautiful  lines : 

"Man  is  a  pilgrim,  spirit  clothed  in  flesh, 
And  tented  in  the  wilderness  of  time ; 
His  native  place  is  near  the  eternal  throne, 
And  his  Creator,  God." 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  283 

The  works  of  God  never  appear  so  exquisitely  beau- 
tiful as  amidst  silence  and  solitude. 

About  the  hour  of  ten,  as  we  slowly  issued  from  the 
deep  valley,  a  light  greeted  our  eyes  from  the  window  of 
a  modest  dwelling,  which  we  afterward  learned  was  kept 
burning  there  all  night  for  the  benefit  of  travelers  emerg- 
ing from  this  dark  gorge.  The  noise  of  our  carriage- 
wheels  wakened  the  kind  host  even  before  we  knocked. 
A  good  supper,  a  comfortable  bed,  and  then  a  dreamless 
sleep  until  awakened  in  the  morning  by  the  industrious 
family,  rendered  us  oblivious  of  yesterday's  troubles.  We 
were  called  to  breakfast  soon  after  daylight,  and  before 
sunrise  were  again  on  our  way. 

Mr.  Tevis  prayed  with  our  hospitable  entertainers  be- 
fore leaving.  This  he  never  failed  to  do  night  and  morn- 
ing wherever  we  stayed,  among  friends  or  strangers.  It 
was,  indeed,  the  general  custom  of  the  early  Methodist 
preachers  to  ask  this  privilege  if  not  invited.  Mr.  Tevis 
never  spent  an  hour  on  a  visit  without  praying  with  the 
family  if  circumstances  permitted;  and  yet  he  was  neither 
officious  nor  presumptuous.  Noted  for  that  true  polite- 
ness that  springs  from  the  heart,  he  never  deviated  from 
the  strictest  sense  of  propriety  with  regard  to  others; 
hence  his  reproofs,  in  or  out  of  season,  did  not  give 
offense. 

Neither  the  pen  of  a  ready  writer  nor  the  brush  of  an 
Italian  painter  could  give  even  a  faint  idea  of  that  Sep- 
tember morning.  The  glorious  orb  of  day  announced  his 
coming  by  gradually  gilding  the  Eastern  sky 'and  touch- 
ing the  dark  green  foliage  of  the  wilderness  with  his  rays 
of  light,  gently  drawing  aside  the  curtain  of  the  night, 
that  his  beams  might  fall  slowly  and  softly  upon  the  face 
of  the  sleeping  earth,  till  her  eyelids  opened  and  she  went 


284  JULIA  A.  TEVIS, 

forth  again  to  her  labor  until  the  evening.  We  seemed 
on  the  verge  of  a  new  world — a  world  of  light  and  glory. 
We  inhaled  new  life  from  the  dewy  freshness  of  the  balmy 
atmosphere  as  we  sped  rapidly  along  into  the  thickly- 
settled  portions  of  the  State.  White  clouds  and  great 
woodlands  and  purple  crests  of  far-off  hills  floated  into 
the  golden  atmosphere  of  the  enchanting  scene.  The  vol- 
uptuous earth,  brimming  with  ecstasy,  poured  out  songs 
and  odors,  leaves  like  fluttering  wings  flashed  light,  and 
blades  of  grass  grew  tremulous  with  joy.  Tranquilizing 
and  gentle  emotions,  stealing  on  us  unawares,  filled  our 
souls  with  peace,  pleasant  harbingers  of  days  to  come. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  285 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

OUR  first  night,  spent  among  Kentucky  relatives,  was 
in  the  large  old  family  mansion  of  Mrs.  Robert 
Tevis,  near  Richmond,  Madison  County.  I  was  struck 
with  the  beauty  of  the  widely-extended  lawn  in  front  of 
the  house,  shaded  with  splendid  old  forest  trees  flinging 
their  shadows  far  out  upon  the  soft  sward;  the  branches 
lifted  and  fell  with  a  fanning  motion  to  the  evening 
breeze;  and,  here  and  there,  a  bird  was  singing  her  fare- 
well to  the  sun  as  we  passed  over  the  stile. 

I  have  often  wondered  why  people  in  the  West  either 
select  a  building  spot  where  there  are  no  trees,  or  else 
cut  down  the  natural  growth  and  plant  stunted  evergreens 
all  about  their  dwellings.  The  grounds  around  this  place 
presented  a  beautiful  contrast,  reminding  one  of  some  old 
baronial  residence,  so  frequently  described  in  English 
books.  The  beauty  of  departed  Summer  still  shone  on 
garden  and  meadow,  draping  in  gorgeous  splendor  the 
whole  landscape.  The  woodland  pastures  of  blue  grass 
were  green  enough  to  be  refreshing  to  the  eye,  while  the 
adjacent  forest  was  one  mingled  mass  of  orange,  brown, 
and  crimson;  and  the  coral  berry  of  the  mountain  ash 
gleamed  brightly  among  the  fading  leaves. 

Mrs.  Tevis  was  a  true  type  of  widowhood.  Her  soft 
brown  eyes  were  filled  with  tears  as  she  embraced  me; 
and  her  sweet,  quiet  face,  seen  beneath  her  modest  cap, 
I  often  call  to  remembrance.  From  all  that  I  saw  and 
afterwards  heard,  she  possessed  an  angelic  spirit.  The 


286  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

light  of  a  heavenly  hope  beamed  in  her  eye  —  a  hope 
brought  from  her  closet.  She  made  God  her  salvation, 
and  to  her  was  the  promise,  "With  joy  shalt  thou  draw 
water  out  of  the  wells  of  salvation."  She  had  suffered 
much  from  bereavements,  and  her  soul  was  doubtless 
purified  "as  by  fire."  And  of  what  avail  is  affliction  if 
it  does  not  soften  and  purify  the  heart?  Why  are  those 
called  blessed  that  mourn,  if  it  is  not  that  they  learn  the 
bitter  lesson  that  grief  alone  can  teach? 

Our  friends  would  gladly  have  detained  us  several 
days.  Finding  we  could  not  tarry  now,  they  urged  us  to 
return  at  some  convenient  season.  Our  hearts  said,  Yes, 
but  circumstances  never  rendered  it  practicable.  In  after 
years,  however,  the  bond  of  friendly  relationship  was 
renewed  and  strengthened  by  my  having  many  of  her 
grandchildren  in  my  school. 

With  a  bounding  heart  and  excited  imagination,  I 
continued  my  journey  the  next  day.  Before  another 
sunset  I  should  see  all  I  held  most  dear  on  earth,  to- 
gether. We  did  not  stop  to  dine.  Thus,  early  in  the 
afternoon,  we  entered  the  woodlands  of  my  uncle's  farm. 
My  eyes  wandered  continually  in  search  of  some  familiar 
spot  of  my  child-life.  A  sudden  turn  in  the  road  brought 
into  view  the  round-topped  sugar-tree,  "whose  brow  in 
lofty  grandeur  rose,"  crowned  with  a  magnificent  dome 
of  emerald  leaves,  tinged  with  the  rich  hues  of  Autumn; 
here  and  there  a  ray  of  sunshine  strayed  through  some 
crevice  in  the  thick  foliage,  casting  a  golden  light  upon 
the  dark  green  moss  beneath. 

I  hailed  the  old  patriarch  with  delight,  sacredly  asso- 
ciated in  memory  with  my  childhood's  home,  a  guiding 
star  in  former  days  to  the  wandering  hunter.  It  rose  far 
above  the  heads  of  its  forest  brethren,  and  was  the  com- 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  287 

pass  by  which  land  navigators  steered  their  course  through 
the  tangled  cane-brake  and  the  dreary  wilderness,  and  it 
still  stands — 1864 — the  cynosure  of  all  the  surrounding 
settlement.  I  gazed  on  it  with  tearful  eyes,  and  thought 
how,  as  a  merry-hearted  child,  I  had  played  around  its 
base;  and  an  involuntary  pang  darted  through  my  heart 
as  I  remembered  the  many  loving  faces  I  should  now  miss 
from  my  father-land. 

Most  of  the  old  landmarks  had  been  swept  away;  the 
pawpaw  bushes  were  gone;  the  double  line  of  cherry- 
trees  that  formed  an  avenue  from  grandfather's  to  my 
Uncle  Gholson's  white  cottage  on  the  hill,  under  which  I 
had  so  often  stood  holding  up  my  little  check  apron  to 
receive  the  clustering  cherries  thrown  down  by  brothers 
and  cousins,  were  no  longer  there.  A  slight  shower  in 
the  forenoon  had  filled  the  woods  with  fragrance,  and  the 
pattering  raindrops,  occasionally  falling  from  the  over- 
hanging branches,  sparkled  like  diamonds  on  the  tufted 
grass  by  the  wayside.  Chirping  birds'  hopped  blithely 
among  the  trees,  as  if  loath  to  leave  their  Summer  home, 
while  they  could  enjoy  the  sweet  breeze  that  wooed  them 
with  kisses  as  it  slightly  ruffled  their  glossy  feathers. 

A  wizard  spell  is  thrown  around  the  spot  where  child- 
hood played.  Olden  visions,  "faintly  sweet,"  passed 
before  me,  and  dreamy  reveries  invested  my  soul  with  a 
mysterious  joy.  There  was  the  same  old  stile  to  be  crossed 
before  we  could  enter  the  yard,  even  then  covered  with 
a  living  green  as  soft  and  rich  as  in  midsummer.  There 
was  the  quaint  old  brick  house,  the  first  of  the  kind  ever 
built  in  Kentucky,  with  its  projecting  gables,  and  its 
ample  door  standing  wide  open  to  welcome  the  coming 
guest;  and  soon  there  came  a  rush  of  children  across  the 
yard,  and  I  was  almost  smothered  with  kisses  by  the  dear 


288  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

little  ones  that  looked  shyly  at  the  tall  stranger  standing 
beside  me.  I  reached  the  doorstep,  and  was  encircled  in 
my  mother's  arms,  her  tears  falling  like  raindrops  as  she 
folded  me  again  and  again  to  her  heart.  In  the  old  fam- 
ily room  many  were  waiting,  who  greeted  us  with  the 
greatest  cordiality,  making  our  advent  joyous  indeed. 

The  next  day,  the  news  being  spread  throughout  the 
neighborhood,  a  numerous  delegation  of  uncles,  aunts, 
and  cousins  came  to  welcome  and  invite  us  to  partake 
of  their  hospitality.  The  family  tree,  transplanted  from 
Virginia  to  Kentucky  soil,  had  lost  neither  beauty  nor 
glory.  Its  branches  were  widespread  and  flourishing, 
and  from  its  roots  had  sprung  a  thousand  ramifications, 
whence  arose  many  a  "roof-tree,"  affording  shelter  and 
protection  to  wayworn  travelers  and  homeless  wanderers. 

Kentucky,  garden -spot  of  the  earth,  where  bloom- 
ing beauty  scatters  flowers  through  the  valley  and 
clothes  the  hills  with  verdure, — how  I  loved  thee  then, 
dear  native  soil!  how  I  rejoiced  in  thy  smiles  after  an 
absence  of  twenty  years!  And  how  deeply,  fervently,  I 
love  thee  now,  after  a  residence  of  fifty  years  among  thy 
people,  and  in  one  of  thy  most  favored  spots!  I  have 
looked  with  heartfelt  gratitude  upon  thy  broad  fields  of 
golden  maize,  traversed  with  pride  and  pleasure  thy  far- 
famed  blue -grass  regions,  gazed  upon  thy  stupendous 
river  cliffs,  and  wandered  through  the  mysterious  sound- 
ings of  thy  Mammoth  Cave,  with  one  whose  affectionate 
heart  ever  vibrated  in  unison  with  my  own. 

My  eyes  wandered  around  the  best  room  in  search 
of  some  familiar  objects.  The  same  old  clock  stood  in 
the  corner,  ticking  its  "ever,  forever,"  as  regularly  as  of 
old;  and,  near  by,  the  little  square  table,  with  its  deep 
drawer,  in  which  my  grandmother  kept  the  cakes,  baked 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  289 

every  Saturday  afternoon  for  the  children  that  generally 
came  with  their  parents  to  dine  on  Sunday.  The  wide- 
open  fireplace  brought  to  mind  the  "yule  log,"  Christ- 
mas fires,  and  Winter  cotton  picking.  I  could  almost 
see  the  little  woolly-headed  cotton-gins  of  olden  times, 
each  with  a  fleecy  heap  of  cotton  before  him  from  which 
to  separate  the  seed,  and  sundry  little  grandchildren 
plying  their  nimble  fingers  in  the  same  manner,  grand- 
mother superintending  the  whole, — the  click  of  her  knit- 
ting-needles, meantime,  as  uninterrupted  as  the  ticking 
of  the. clock.  Our  tasks  done,  cakes,  nuts,  etc.,  were 
distributed,  and  then  followed  a  game  of  romps,  which 
my  grandfather  enjoyed  as  much  as  the  children!  and  he 
could  laugh  as  loud  and  long  as  any  of  us. 

I  recalled  old  Uncle  Billy  Bush,  of  Indian  memory, 
who  lived  near  by  and  frequently  formed  one  of  the 
merry  group,  chasing  us  about  the  room  with  his  cane. 
How  we  all  loved  to  see  his  ruddy  face,  so  full  of  intelli- 
gence and  good  humor,  a  lurking  jest  ever  in  his  eye,  and 
and  a  smile  about  the  corner  of  his  mouth,  with  a  voice 
loud  enough  to  hail  a  ship  at  sea  without  the  aid  of  a 
speaking-trumpet!  It  was  wonderfully  rich,  too,  har- 
monizing admirably  with  his  blunt,  jovial  face;  and  this 
warm,  rosy  scene  generally  closed  with  an  exciting  Indian 
story,  in  which  Daniel  Boone  figured  as  well  as  himself. 

During  our  stay  here  we  spent  one  charming  day  with 
"Aunt  Franky  Billy,"  the  widow  of  this  old  uncle,  so 
called  to  distinguish  her  from  another  Aunt  Franky,  and 
noted  for  her  good  housewifery,  as  well  as  her  bound- 
less hospitality.  Simple-hearted,  right-minded,  and  pious, 
she  was  loved  by  all  who  knew  her.  So  free  from  self- 
ishness, so  liberal,  so  every  thing  a  nice  old  lady  ought 
to  be, — what  a  pleasure  it  was  to  see  her  still  presiding 


290  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

at  her  own  table,  abundantly  spread  with  all  that  could 
minister  to  the  most  delicate  taste,  or  satisfy  the  most 
craving  hunger.  Indeed,  her  children  sometimes  ex- 
pressed a  fear  that  she  would  cram  some  poor  wayfaring 
traveler  to  death  with  her  good  things. 

Upon 'this  occasion  she  received  me  with  a  heart  full 
of  love,  and  testified  her  honest  affection  for  ''Cousin 
July  Ann's"  husband  by  proffering,  with  modest  polite- 
ness, the  various  dishes  and  savory  viands  of  her  bountiful 
table — all  the  time  apologizing  for  the  meager  fare, 
and  thinking  nothing  good  enough  for  us.  We  would 
gladly  have  remained  for  weeks  with  our  kind  rela- 
tions, but  could  only  spend  a  few  days;  and  of  the  thir- 
teen widow  Bushes  in  the  immediate  neighborhood  we 
visited  only  two. 

Before  leaving,  it  was  definitely  arranged  that  my 
mother  should  come  to  Shelbyville  in  the  Spring,  pur- 
chase a  comfortable  house,  and  make  it  her  permanent 
residence.  Here,  too,  we  expected  to  locate  our  school. 
We  left  early  Monday  morning,  and  were  now  to  travel 
through  the  celebrated  "blue-grass  region,"  represented 
as  ever  "bathed  in  golden  dawns  or  purple  sunsets  dying 
on  the  horizon — the  great  blue  canopy  of  heaven  droop- 
ing over  all  like  a  dream."  This,  too,  was  the  land 
illustrated  by  a  thousand  scenes  as  picturesque  as  they 
were  significant;  where,  in  solitary  and  rudely  constructed 
forts,  that  strange,  old,  rude,  poetical,  colonial  life  had 
gone  on.  Brave  men  had  struggled,  breast  to  breast, 
and  contended  fearfully  with  the  wild  beasts  that  roamed 
in  multiplied  thousands  over  the  land.  Through  a  lovely 
grove  we  entered  the  main  road  leading  to  Lexington. 
The  air  was  soft,  balmy,  genial,  the  sky  of  that  delicate 
azure  which  gives  relief  to  the  rich  .beauty  of  the  earth, 


'S/.\'TY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  291 

glowing  all  around  with  the  ripe,  mellow  tints  of  Sep- 
tember— the  finest  combination  of  trees  and  shrubs,  the 
rarest  effects  of  form  and  foliage,  bewildering  the  eye 
with  recesses  apparently  interminable.  A  subtle  fra- 
grance, developed  by  the  night  dews,  floated  in  the  air; 
the  lulling  music  of  the  branches,  swayed  by  the  gentle 
breath  of  morning  with  all  these  hallowed  influences, 
reminded  us,  by  association,  of  life's  perpetual  changes — 
types  of  our  restless  world;  while  the  heavens  above,  so 
holy  and  tranquil,  spoke  to  the  heart  of  that  rest  prepared 
for  the  faithful,  where  no  changes  like  those  of  earth 
ever  come. 

Our  horse,  too,  appeared  to  feel  the  beauty  of  the 
scenery,  for  he  walked  slowly  along  the  highway,  snuffing 
the  fragrance  of  the  sweet-scented  meadow  land,  over 
which  roamed  flocks  and  herds — an  Arcadian  scene  of 
great  beauty.  Every  step  of  the  road  I  was  contrasting 
the  past  with  the  present.  Instead  of  the  bounding  deer, 
the  dark  forest  and  the  rudely-built  log  house,  white 
dwellings  gleamed  through  clustering  shade  trees.  The 
approach  to  Lexington  was  through  a  leafy  labyrinth 
leading  imperceptibly  to  a  slight  elevation,  from  whence 
we  had  the  first  view  of  the  town,  with  its  mass  of  roofs 
and  chimneys  peeping  through  the  trees.  There  were  no 
magnificent  dwellings,  and  there  was  no  architectural 
display  in  churches;  but  brick  houses,  low-roofed  cot- 
tages, with  here  and  there  a  mansion  of  more  hospitable 
dimensions.  The  town  was  surrounded  by  woodlands, 
interspersed  with  bright  green  meadows,  edging  off  on 
every  side  into  fields,  orchards,  and  farms;  and  in  the 
distance  were  shadowy  hills,  indicating  the  vicinity  of  the 
Kentucky  River. 

And  this  was  Lexington,  the  aristocratic  town  of  the 


292  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

West,  of  which  I  had  heard  so  much !  The  early  chroni- 
clers state  that  it  stands  on  the  site  of  an  ancient  city  of 
great  extent  and  magnificence.  Tradition  says  there 
once  existed  a  catacomb,  formed  in  the  limestone  rock, 
fifteen  feet  below  the  surface  of  the  earth,  discovered  by 
the  early  settlers,  whose  curiosity  was  excited  by  the 
appearance  of  the  stones  which  covered  the  entrance  to  a 
cavern.  Removing  these  stones  they  entered  the  mouth 
of  a  cave,  apparently  deep,  gloomy,  and  terrific.  They 
were  deterred  by  their  apprehensions  from  attempting  a 
full  exploration,  but  found,  at  no  great  distance  from  the 
entrance,  niches  occupied  by  mummies  preserved  by  the 
art  of  embalming,  in  as  perfect  a  state  as  any  found  in 
Egypt.  The  descent  to  this  cave  was  gradual;  and,  by 
calculation,  after  proceeding  as  far  into  it  as  they  dared, 
it  was  supposed  to  be  large  enough  to  contain  three 
thousand  bodies;  and  who  knows,  says  the  historian,  but 
they  were  embalmed  by  the  same  race  of  men  that  built 
the  pyramids?  If  not,  how  shall  the  mystery  be  solved? 
The  North  American  Indians  were  never  known  to 
construct  catacombs  for  their  dead,  or  to  be  acquainted 
with  the  art  of  embalming.  The  custom  is  purely 
Egyptian,  and  was  practiced  in  the  earliest  ages  of  their 
national  existence.  The  whites  who  discovered  these 
mummies,  indignant  at  the  outrages  committed  by  the 
Indians,  and  supposing  this  cave  to  be  a  burial  place  for 
their  dead,  dragged  out  the  bodies,  tore  off  the  bandages, 
and  made  a  general  bonfire  of  these  antiquities — perhaps 
the  oldest  in  the  world. 

Progress  in  refinement  is  necessarily  connected  with 
the  prosperity  of  a  civilized  country,  and  we  might  natu- 
rally have  expected  to  find  some  specimens  of  the  arts 
and  sciences,  exhibited  in  splendidly  decorated  edifices, 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  293 

borrowed  from  the  classic  taste  of  Greece,  in  this  town  of 
Lexington,  which  was  certainly  not  built  yesterday,  in 
keeping  with  Dickens's  view  of  every  town  he  saw  in  the 
United  States.  The  first  inhabitants  had  the  good  sense 
to  see  that  nothing  artificial  could  improve  in  form  or 
beauty  the  sublime  works  of  the  Creator,  which  in  de- 
sign, color,  light,  and  shade,  form  perfect  pictures  in  the 
human  eye.  They  erected  plain,  comfortable  dwellings, 
in  the  vicinity  of  which  were  profusely  scattered  the 
beech,  the  spotted  sycamore,  the  stately  poplar,  and  the 
graceful  elm,  whose  outer  branches  drooped  with  garland- 
like  richness;  and  the  locust  was  so  abundant  as  to  form, 
at  intervals,  a  mimic  forest. 

The  Lexington  of  1824,  with  its  enchanting  scenes 
of  pastoral  beauty  left  a  picture  on  my  memory  that 
remains  fresh  after  the  lapse  of  fifty  years.  I  have  vis- 
ited it  at  different  seasons  since,  and,  though  divested  of 
its  wild  luxuriance  of  natural  scenery,  it  was  still,  with 
its  surroundings,  the  Eden  of  Kentucky.  In  the  Spring, 
a  paradise  of  loveliness ;  in  the  Summer,  rich  in  its  abun- 
dance and  glorious  in  its  regal  robes;  in  the  Autumn, 
when  the  dim  haze  of  the  departing  year  hung  like  a 
pall  over  its  magnificent  woodlands;  and,  in  the  Winter, 
when  the  Summer  birds  had  left  their  withered  homes 
and  gone  to  seek  a  sunnier  clime,  when  the  rich  flowers 
had  perished,  and  the  blossoms  of  the  valley  had  found  a 
grave  upon  the  scentless  soil  that  gave  them  birth, 
sublimity  still  clung  to  it  like  a  garment. 

The  principal  street,  teeming  with  foot  passengers  and 
carriages,  showed  that  the  life-blood  of  a  busy  population 
throbbed  healthily  and  steadily.  Kind  looks  met  us  in 
every  direction,  and  the  music  of  cheerful  voices  fell 
pleasantly  upon  the  ear.  As  we  did  not  intend  to  tarry 


294  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

in  town,  we  drove  on  till  we  reached  a  modest  looking 
house  of  entertainment  in  the  suburbs,  where  we  stopped 
for  refreshment  and  to  rest  our  horse  for  an  hour  or  two. 
In  the  vine-covered  porch  sat  the  landlord,  almost  as 
large  as  a  prize  ox,  and  as  jovial  looking  as  Falstaff  him- 
self. We  were  ushered  into  a  pleasant  sitting-room, 
whence  I  soon  retreated  into  an  adjoining  apartment  in 
search  of  my  usual  nap  before  dinner.  As  the  door 
opened  into  the  room  occupied  by  Mr.  Tevis  and  the 
landlord,  I  was  kept  awake  by  the  following  dialogue. 
Mine  host  began, — 

"Been  traveling  long,  sir?" 

"Several  days,"  was  the  reply. 

"Got  far  to  go  yet?" 

"Not  very" — a  long  silence. 

"Stranger  in  these  parts,  sir?" 

"Not  altogether." 

"The  lady  with  you  a  relation?" 

"Yes,  sir;"  another  silence,  my  husband  meanwhile 
reading  diligently. 

"Ahem!  that  lady's  your  cousin,  I  suppose?" 

No  reply. 

"Well,  sir,  won't  you  take  a  drink  of  prime  old 
Cognac?"  and  suiting  the  action  to  the  invitation  he  rose 
and  took  a  bottle  from  the  closet.  "I  allers  takes  a 
drink  afore  dinner,  and  I  never  charges  travelers  for  a 
drink  or  so,  specially  as  I  drinks  with  them,"  then  he 
laughed  loudly. 

"Thank  you,"  said  Mr.  Tevis,  "I  never  drink  spirits 
of  any  kind." 

"What!  not  before  dinner?  Well,  I  does."  He 
turned  up  the  bottle  and  drank  from  it  long  and  largely. 
"Well,  sir,  as  I  was  a-sayin',  that  lady  's  your  cousin,  I 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  295 

'spose ;  but  she  favors  you  mightily,  and  may  be  she 's 
your  sister." 

No  answer. 

(Desperately).  "I  say,  mister,  is  she  your  sister,  or 
your  cousin,  or  your  aunt?" 

"Neither,  sir." 

"Well,  if  I  may  be  so  bold,  what  is  your  name,  and 
who  is  she?" 

"My  name  is  Tevis,  and  the  lady  is  my  wife,"  which 
laconic  reply  stopped  further  questioning. 

Dinner  was  announced  ;  and  as  I  met  the  old  brandy- 
bottle  with  his  red-hot  nose  face  to  face,  I  could  scarcely 
refrain  from  laughing  outright.  We  were  introduced  to 
a  tidy  little  body  sitting  at  the  head  of  the  table — the 
ewe-lamb  of  this  great,  good-humored,  talkative  giant — 
his  wife!  She  was  as  refined  and  gentle  in  her  man- 
ners as  he  was  coarse  and  ignorant.  How  astonishingly 
ill  -  assorted ! 

After  dinner  we  traveled  several  miles  under  the  shade 
of  overarching  trees.  It  was  a  calm,  pleasant  evening, 
and  night  brought  us  to  the  house  of  a  kind  Methodist 
friend,  where  my  husband  had  often  found  a  resting-place 
while  traveling  the  Lexington  Circuit,  ten  years  before. 
We  were  received  with  great  kindness,  and  I  was  an 
object  of  special  attention,  the  good  lady  almost  smoth- 
ering me  with  kisses.  She  was  the  sister  of  brother 
Cooper,  of  Lexington.  Sleep  was  a  stranger  to  my  eye- 
lids during  that  night, — I  was  thinking  of  the  next  day, 
which  would  terminate  our  journey,  when  my  weary  feet, 
no  longer  drifting  about  in  search  of  solid  footing,  would 
find  a  permanent,  life-long  resting-place.  Our  ten  days' 
lonely  journey  had  made  us  both  feel  that  each  would 
strengthen  the  other  in  the  performance  of  life's  serious 


296  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

duties,  and  that  our  pleasures  would  be  doubled  by  like 
sentiments  and  unity  of  purpose;  yet  our  natural  dispo- 
sitions were  dissimilar  in  many  respects.  I  was  laughter- 
loving,  and  at  times  cheerful,  almost  to  levity;  he  always 
grave,  —  yet  there  was  no  gloom  in  that  gravity.  In- 
herently of  a  lofty  and  generous  nature,  his  face  haunted 
with  earnest  thought,  he  seemed  eminently  fitted  to  check 
the  too  great  exuberance  of  my  own  spirits. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  297 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

fTHHE  morning  star  was  shining  in  a  cloudless  sky  of 
-•-  deepest  azure  when,  after  partaking  of  a  hastily  pre- 
pared breakfast,  we  bade  adieu  to  our  hospitable  enter- 
tainers and  were  on  our  way  to  Shelbyville,  expecting 
to  arrive  there  late  in  the  afternoon,  as  the  weather  was 
fine  and  the  roads  in  an  excellent  condition.  A  heavy 
dew,  touched  by  the  frost,  stood  glistening  on  every  blade 
of  grass,  and  the  mist,  gradually  vanishing  as  the  sun 
rose  higher,  presented,  as  we  moved  onwards,  a  shifting 
scenery  of  beautiful  landscapes,  that  would  have  enrap- 
tured the  eye  of  a  Claude  Lorraine. 

The  wild  grape,  winding  its  pliant  vine  among,  and 
clinging  tenaciously  to,  the  branches,  flung  leafy  garlands 
from  stem  to  stem,  while  the  grapes  hung  in  large  purple 
clusters,  tempting  the  hand  of  the  traveler. 

Towards  noon  we  ascended  a  gentle  acclivity,  from 
whence,  at  the  distance  of  a  mile,  we  saw  Shelbyville, 
situated  on  a  broken  ridge,  embowered  in  foliage,  washed 
%on  every  side  except  the  west  by  a  creek,  which  at  that 
time  was  a  deep  stream  appropriately  called  "Clear 
Creek."  Just  as  we  emerged  from  the  covered  bridge 
we  met  my  husband's  youngest  brother  on  horseback, 
who  had  come  out  to  escort  us  to  the  house  of  a  mar- 
ried brother,  where  many  friends  awaited  us. 

The  Annual  Conference,  with  its  mighty  mustering 
of  the  tribe  of  Levi,  was  in  session.  My  husband,  now 


298  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

a  member  of  this  body,  was  cordially  greeted  by  the 
preachers,  many  of  whom  were  old  friends.  It  was  a 
time  of  unmingled  pleasure  and  happiness. 

In  the  afternoon,  a  drive  of  two  miles  brought  us  to 
our  father's  farm,  our  home,  until  we  could  prepare  for 
house-keeping  in  the  Spring.  Quite  a  bevy  of  relatives 
and  friends  were  gathered  there  also.  We  were  met  at 
the  gate  by  "father,"  a  venerable-looking  man,  his  head 
white  with  the  snows  of  seventy  Winters,  but  with  a  com- 
plexion as  hale,  a  step  as  firm  and  elastic,  as  if  in  the 
meridian  of  life.  He  wore  the  costume  of  '76.  Bright 
shoe-buckles,  highly-polished  shoes,  long  stockings,  knee 
breeches  with  silver  buckles,  a  long  buff  waistcoat,  round 
coat  and  straight  collar,  brought  up  the  memory  of  olden 
times.  His  benevolent  countenance,  smiling  all  over, 
and  a  cordial  kiss,  won  my  heart  immediately.  Then 
came  "mother,"  whose  equally  affectionate  reception 
made  me  love  her  at  once,  and  that  love  never  grew  cold 
by  a  more  intimate  acquaintance.  The  simplicity  of  her 
dress  was  in  perfect  keeping  with  her  husband's  costume, 
attractive,  yet  without  any  attempt  to  imitate  modern 
style.  A  plain  gown  of  dark  "stuff,"  a  neat  linen  inside 
handkerchief,  whose  square  collar  of  snowy  whiteness  re- 
lieved the  dark  dress,  a  handsome  black  shawl,  pinned 
over  so  as  to  meet  in  front,  and  a  bobinet  cap,  the  plaited 
border  trimmed  with  narrow  thread-lace  edging.  A  little 
in  the  background,  and  modestly  awaiting  our  approach, 
was  Aunt  Nancy,  my  husband's  maiden  and  maternal 
aunt,  of  whose  exalted  piety  I  had  heard  so  much.  She 
was  tall  and  dignified,  with  a  thin,  pale  face,  and  evi- 
dently past  the  age  of  sixty.  A  singular  adherence  to 
the  Methodist  costume  of  forty  years  before  rendered  her 
appearance  attractive,  a  style  which  must  have  had  the 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  299 

effect  to  conceal  much  of  her  beauty  in  youth,  but  suited 
exactly  her  present  age ;  and,  as  it  never  could  have  been 
at  any  time  fashionable,  had  the  advantage  of  never  look- 
ing old-fashioned.  I  had  often  heard  Mr.  Tevis  speak  of 
her  fervent  but  unostentatious  zeal  in  serving  God,  and 
how,  at  the  early  age  of  seventeen,  when  it  was  no  small 
sacrifice  in  a  worldly  point  of  view  to  become  a  Method- 
ist, she  and  one  of  her  sisters,  divesting  themselves  of 
every  weight  that  might  impede  their  progress  in  a  relig- 
ious life,  setting  their  slaves  free,  as  required,  had  reso- 
lutely attached  themselves  to  the  then  despised  people 
called  Methodists.  The  sister  married  a  local  preacher, 
but  Aunt  Nancy,  declining  many  eligible  offers,  remained 
single.  She  did  not  think  it  wrong  to  marry,  but  felt  that 
she  could  serve  God  better  as  she  was.  Like  Anna,  the 
prophetess,  she  did  serve  him  from  her  youth  upwards, 
and  worshiped  in  the  temple  with  fasting  and  prayer. 
Open  in  word  and  deed,  with  an  uncompromising  direct- 
ness and  singleness  of  purpose,  it  would  have  been  as 
easy  to  turn  the  sun  from  off  its  course  as  this  noble 
Christian  woman  from  the  path  of  duty.  These  three, 
with  Cousin  Ruth,  formed  the  household.  The  last  men- 
tioned, though  forty  years  old,  was  an  unsophisticated 
child  in  character,  thought,  and  feeling.  She,  too,  was 
ready  with  her  welcome  for  "John's  wife."  Being  deaf 
and  partially  dumb,  she  seemed  surprised  to  see  so  many 
tears  shed  upon  the  occasion  that  she  had  anticipated 
joyously. 

Aunt  and  Uncle  Sherman  were  there;  also  two  other 
cousins,  Matilda  and  Harriet  Crow,  both  of  whom  became 
so  dear  to  me  by  a  more  intimate  acquaintance  that  I  can 
not  forbear  introducing  them  to  my  reader.  They  were 
among  the  sweetest  personifications  of  that  pure  and 


300  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

undefiled  religion  which  our  Savior  "went  about  to  teach." 
Both  were  attired  quaintly  in  garments  of  the  same  color, 
and  with  that  Quaker  simplicity  remarkable  for  closeness 
and  quietness,  with  an  entire  absence  of  pretension  which 
veils,  but  does  not  conceal,  the  most  refined  elegance, 
setting  off,  with  exquisite  taste,  the  finest  forms.  Both 
wore  simple  caps  of  snowy  whiteness,  but  too  transparent 
to  hide  the  silver  threads  which  time  was  busily  weaving 
among  the  glossy  brown  hair  of  their  youthful  days. 
Cousin  Matilda,  upon  whose  quiet  brow  the  passing  waves 
of  fifty  years  had  scarce  left  a  wrinkle,  had  an  air  of  dig- 
nity mingled  with  peculiar  sweetness.  Her  face,  uncom- 
monly fair,  was  lighted  up  by  a  pair  of  sparkling  gray 
eyes,  yet  corresponding  with  the  gentle  manner  which 
often  awakened  an  enthusiasm,  rendered  more  charming 
by  the  impulse  of  her  quick,  ardent  spirit.  Her  counte- 
nance, when  in  repose,  reminded  one  of  an  alabaster  vase, 
not  displaying  the  graceful  designs  on  its  surface  until 
lighted  from  within ;  so,  when  excited  by  feeling,  and 
during  the  flood-tide  of  emotion,  aspects  unseen  and  un- 
known before  were  revealed  in  great  beauty.  Cousin 
Harriet's  passionless  face,  across  which  no  worldly  shadow 
ever  flitted,  was  rendered  inexpressibly  touching  by  the 
holy  light  which  ever  dwelt  in  her  deep,  thoughtful  eyes. 
She  looked  and  acted  as  one  who  felt  the  "littleness"  of 
time  and  the  vastness  of  eternity.  The  sweet  tones  of 
her  voice  vibrate  even  now  through  the  chambers  of 
memory  as  I  dwell  upon  her  excellences.  I  have  watched 
her  in  the  performance  of  her  missions  of  love  and  mercy 
as,  with  a  nursing  tenderness,  she  soothed  the  sick  and 
suffering,  settled  the  snowy  pillow  for  the  aching  head, 
handed  the  cup  of  cool  water  and  whispered  words  of 
comfort,  and,  when  in  the  stillness  of  the  solem  midnight 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  301 

hour,  with  noiseless  step  she  flitted  by  me,  clothed  in 
pure  white,  I  have  thought  "of  such  is  the  kingdom  of 
heaven."  The  allurements  of  the  world  had  been  counted 
and  resigned  by  this  angelic  woman,  and  a  dove-like 
peace  had  settled  on  her  soul.  A  pleading  eloquence  in 
her  very  looks  fondly  urged  those  whose  hearts  were  full 
of  sublunary  bliss  to  seek  a  better  portion. 

The  two  sisters  were  seldom  separated,  and  spent 
much'  of  their  time  at  father's  during  the  five  months  of 
my  stay  there.  Frequently,  when  listening  to  their  soft 
voices  singing  in  low,  pleasant  tones  the  touching  hymns 
of  Charles  Wesley,  I  was  transported  for  the  moment  to 
the  very  verge  of  heaven.  More  than  thirty  years  have 
elapsed.  I  have  passed  through  many  vicissitudes,  but 
neither  life's  storms  nor  its  calms  have  banished  from  my 
heart  those  pleasant  memories.  These  two  well-beloved 
cousins,  whose  mutual  lives  were  so  closely  bound  to- 
gether, stand  out  in  full  relief  among  others  of  that  fam- 
ily-group in  the  beautiful  picture — 

"It  is  in  the  twilight  hour, 
The  time  when  memory  lingers 

Across  life's  dreary  track, 
When  the  past  floats  up  before  us, 

And  the  lost  comes  stealing  back," 

that  I  sit  in  the  family  room,  father  on  the  right,  his 
white  hair  gleaming  like  a  crown  of  glory;  mother  sitting 
at  her  work-table,  her  genial  face  gladdening  all  within 
the  sphere  of  its  influence;  the  sisters,  with  their  needle- 
work ;  Aunt  Nancy  knitting,  and  Cousin  Ruth,  with  her 
solemn  eyes,  showing  that  though  the  ear  offered  to  her 
no  medium  of  communication,  the  soul,  in  some  mysteri- 
ous way,  held  intercourse  with  the  outer  world. 

Cousin  Ruth  was  one  of  those  remarkable  illustrations 
of  the  benevolence  of  our  Heavenly  Father  in  compen- 

20 


302  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

sating  for  the  loss  of  one  sense  by  the  increased  suscep- 
tibility of  cultivation  in  others.  To  our  eyes  she  seemed 
but  a  drop  falling  away  from  the  ocean  of  existence, 
unperceived  and  disregarded  by  the  great  mass.  "Little 
and  unknown"  as  she  was,  however,  the  great  God  loved, 
and,  in  his  rich  provision,  had  not  forgotten  her.  She 
had  learned  to  talk  when  a  child,  before  she  lost  her 
Bearing,  which  occurred,  suddenly,  when  about  five  or 
six  years  of  age,  and  without  any  known  cause  except 
standing  under  the  dripping  eaves  of  a  house  whence  the 
cold  rain  fell,  drop  by  drop,  upon  her  head.  She  heard 
well  and  talked  sweetly  in  the  early  morning  on  one  well 
remembered  April  day;  at  night  she  was  entirely  deaf; 
and  as  she  never  recovered  her  hearing,  soon  lost  the 
power  of  communicating  by  words.  Her  enunciation 
became  less  and  less  distinct,  until  finally  she  ceased 
trying  to  express  herself  except  in  monosyllables;  but 
her  voiceless  language,  so  mysterious  to  strangers,  was 
perfectly  understood  by  the  family.  She  acquired  by 
practice  a  variety  of  intelligible  gestures,  and  it  was 
interesting  to  watch  her  in  her  long  conversations  with 
mother  who  understood  her  best  of  all.  She  possessed 
the  power  of  hearing  sound  through  a  good  conducting 
medium,  and  delighted  to  put  a  wooden  pencil  between 
her  teeth,  one  end  resting  upon  the  sound-board  of  a 
piano.  In  this  way  she  heard  the  harmonious  sounds 
distinctly.  There  were  no  institutions  for  the  deaf  and 
dumb  in  our  country  when  she  was  a  child;  but  so  care- 
fully had  she  been  trained  by  her  excellent  aunt,  that  she 
possessed  not  only  ordinary  intelligence,  but  quick  per- 
ceptions and  the  greatest  sense  of  propriety.  The  simple 
loveliness  of  temper  and  disposition  in  this  child  of 
nature  made  her  a  general  favorite.  I  doubt  if  any  one 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  303 

ever  looked  into  her  wide  open,  serious  eyes  without 
feeling  that  they  were  the  windows  of  a  thinking  soul. 
I  have  seen  her  sit  for  hours  quietly  knitting,  without 
appearing  to  notice  any  thing  around  her;  yet,  if  an 
article  was  lost  in  the  house  and  she  could  not  indicate 
where  it  was,  no  one  sought  for  it  afterwards.  Often 
when  Aunt  Nancy  or  mother  was  silently  searching 
around  the  room  through  drawers,  closet,  or  cupboard, 
Cousin  Ruth,  without  raising  her  eyes,  would  point  over 
her  shoulder  to  a  particular  spot,  and  there  the  missing 
article  was  found.  She  had  the  power  of  discriminating 
in  cases  where  speech,  hearing,  and  reason  failed  in 
others.  I  sometimes  fancied  she  could  read  my  very 
thoughts;  truly  there  was  something  mysterious,  if  not 
supernatural,  floating  around  her.  Industrious,  affec- 
tionate, happy,  and  kind,  she  neither  vexed  others  nor 
fretted  herself;  and,  when  the  time  came  for  her  to  die, 
she  manifested  to  those  around  her  that  she  was  happy 
in  the  prospect  of  going  to  heaven  where,  she  had  been  so 
often  told,  speech  and  hearing  would  be  restored  to  her. 
During  the  sitting  of  this  Conference  I  first  became 
acquainted  with  Rev.  H.  H.  (now  Bishop)  Kavanaugh, 
then  about  twenty-two  years  of  age.  Just  recovering 
from  a  long  illness,  his  fragile  form,  marble  complexion, 
and  small  white  hands  gave  him  a  feminine  delicacy  of 
appearance,  that  seemed  to  render  him  an  unfit  subject 
for  the  itinerancy;  the  rough  encounters  and  constant 
exposure  of  which,  in  those  days,  would  startle  the 
young  preachers  of  the  present  generation  into  immediate 
location ;  but  this  young  brother,  unhesitating  and  ingen- 
uous in  spirit,  freely  sacrificed  all  personal  considerations 
for  the  high  honor  of  Jehovah's  service.  My  first  intro- 
duction to  this  good  brother  was  when,  a  few  days  after 


304  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

our  arrival  at  father's,  my  husband  placed  a  bundle  of 
flannel  in  my  hands,  saying,  "Julia,  can't  you  make  a 
couple  of  shirts  for  a  young  preacher  who  has  been  very 
ill?"  I  only  hope  they  gave  him  as  much  comfort  as  the 
making  gave  me  pleasure. 

Mr.  Kavanaugh's  earliest  efforts  showed  that  he  pos- 
sessed the  very  important  talent  of  preaching  the  Gospel 
fluently  and  acceptably;  yet,  as  I  have  recently  heard, 
he  was  at  one  time,  in  the  early  part  of  his  ministry,  so 
discouraged  at  seeing  no  fruits  resulting  from  his  labors, 
that  he  thought  he  had  mistaken  his  calling,  and  deter- 
mined to  withdraw  from  the  ministry.  One  night  after 
preaching  he  retired  weary  and  dispirited,  surrounded  by  a 
gloom  which  enervated  his  spirit  and  relaxed  the  steadfast 
temper  of  his  soul.  The  result  of  this  severe  trial  of  his 
faith,  and  under  which  our  young  brother  had  well  nigh 
sunk,  proves  that  the  best  of  men  are  but  imperfect 
judges  of  the  wisdom  of  a  gracious,  unerring  Providence; 
and  it  was,  in  the  end,  divinely  overruled  with  more  than 
common  benefits  to  himself  and  the  Church,  and  made 
the  interesting  means  of  introducing  him  to  new  displays 
of  the  eternal  goodness,  resulting,  as  it  did,  in  a  more 
intimate  and  hallowed  communion  with  his  God. 

During  the  night  referred  to,  he  dreamed  that  he  was 
casting  a  net  for  fish  in  troubled  waters;  after  some 
unsuccessful  efforts,  he  caught  two — one  a  beautiful, 
large,  white  perch,  the  other  a  little  brown  fish  with  no 
comeliness.  He  had  scarce  secured  his  treasures  when 
he  awoke,  deeply  impressed  with  the  idea  that,  like 
Elijah  in  the  wilderness,  he  had  failed  to  see  clearly  the 
ways  of  Providence.  His  eyes,  anointed  with  a  divine 
unction,  were  now  opened,  and  he  resolved  to  "stand 
still  and  see  the  salvation  of  God." 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  305 

At  the  close  of  his  next  sermon,  thinking  of  his 
dream,  he  walked  down  from  the  pulpit,  "opened  the 
doors  of  the  Church,"  and  forthwith  stepped  forward  a 
large,  fine-looking  woman.  "Well,"  thought  he,  "here 
is  my  white  perch."  Standing  behind  her  at  a  modest 
distance,  was  a  humble  looking  person,  weeping  bit- 
terly, but  not  offering  to  join  the  Church ;  he  stepped 
forward  and  said,  not  doubting  that  this  was  his  brown 
fish,  "Do  you  wish  to  join  the  Church?"  "Oh,  yes," 
said  she,  "if  I  may  be  received;"  and,  sobbing  with 
deep  emotion,  she  raised  her  eyes  to  his  face  and  gave 
him  her  hand. 

After  this  revelation  our  young  preacher  never  again 
faltered.  Long  years  of  usefulness  have  demonstrated 
that  he  was  called  of  God,  and  that  great  and  glorious 
Being,  whose  honor  he  has  always  so  zealously  asserted, 
has  caused  him  to  be  highly  esteemed  among  men. 
"Him  that  honoreth  me  I  will  honor,"  saith  the  blessed 
Redeemer. 

The  whole  life  of  this  excellent  man  has  been  the 
reflection  of  an  unclouded  mind  and  of  a  conscience  void 
of  offense.  Married  to  one  of  the  best  of  women — "a 
mother  in  Israel,"  he  long  enjoyed  the  highest  earthly 
happiness  in  her  companionship,  both  serving  God  with 
singleness  of  heart.  They  were  real  helpmates  to  each 
other;  and,  though  subject  to  many  vicissitudes  and  be- 
reavements, yet  these  did  but  ripen  virtues  for  their 
appropriate  sphere  in  heaven. 

No  very  striking  events  mark  the  history  of  these  two 
followers  of  the  cross, — another  proof  of  that  well-estab- 
lished fact  that  the  most  meager  annals  belong  to  those 
epochs  which  have  been  the  richest  in  virtue  and  happi- 
ness. When  the  companion  with  whom  he  had  so  long 


306  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

taken  sweet  counsel  left  him  for  a  better  world,  and  his 
last  earthly  hope  had  fled,  it  was  beautiful  to  see  how, 
like  Ezekiel  when  bereft  by  one  stroke  of  the  light  of  his 
eyes,  he  bowed  to  the  command  of  God,  and  with  deep 
resignation  bore  the  terrible  affliction.  Then  did  the 
light  of  his  divine  religion  shine  inward  and  dispel  the 
gloom  in  which  unassisted  man  would  have  sunk  in 
despair. 

An  early  formed  habit  of  journalizing  rescues  from 
dreary  forgetfulness  incidents  and  personal  remembrances 
which  give  beauty  and  reality  to  the  past,  and  keep  fresh 
in  the  memory  the  lessons  of  life's  varied  discipline.  A 
diary  is  the  soul  of  days  gone  by,  returning  to  us  invested 
with  a  spiritual  presence;  a  voice  that  touches  the  sealed 
fountains  of  the  past,  and  opens  a  stream  of  living  water 
to  purify  thought  and  sanctify  feeling. 

Between  the  years  1830  and  1850  the  Kentucky  Con- 
ference could  boast  of  many  ministers  of  striking  indi- 
viduality and  energy  of  character,  preachers  of  righteous- 
ness. Dr.  Bascom  was  one  whose  intrinsic  worth  was 
not,  perhaps,  very  well  known  to  the  public,  wide-spread 
as  was  his  fame.  And  I  may  here  be  indulged  in  a 
sketch  of  this  accomplished  gentleman  and  exemplary 
Christian,  the  long-tried  personal  friend  of  my  husband 
and  myself. 

It  is  too  much  the  fashion  of  modern  times  to  refer  to 
Cicero  and  Demosthenes  as  the  only  models  of  eloquence 
worthy  of  imitation.  While  we  respect  the  past,  we 
need  not  bury  ourselves  in  it.  The  fanatical  admirers  of 
antiquity  might  find  now,  in  the  noonday  of  Christianity, 
examples  far  more  luminous  and  worthy  of  emulation 
than  could  have  been  found  in  the  palmiest  days  of 
Greece  and  Rome. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  307 

The  clarion  voice  of  young  Bascom  was  heard  in  the 
western  wilds  when  he  was  but  a  smooth-faced  boy  of 
sixteen.  He  was,  beyond  question,  the  most  fluent  and 
brilliant  speaker  of  his  time.  Henry  Clay  pronounced  him 
the  greatest  of  living  orators,  though  there  were  at  that 
period  many  distinguished  public  speakers  both  in  Europe 
and  America.  His  style  was  peculiar  to  himself  and  inim- 
itable, and  we  can  gain  but  an  imperfect  idea  of  the  gran- 
deur and  magnificence  of  his  sermons  by  reading  them. 
In  print  they  are  but  the  cold,  marble  representation, 
without  the  living,  breathing  soul.  His  language  was 
rich,  elegant,  and  perspicuous;  his  imagery  often  bold, 
and  always  just.  He  seemed  to  possess  an  inexhaustible 
fund  of  grand,  forcible,  and  majestic  words,  and  a  mem- 
ory as  surprising  as  his  fluency.  His  elocution  was  cor- 
rect, manly,  and  graceful,  with  the  added  charm  of  a 
strong  musical  voice.  He  used  but  few  gestures,  and 
these  few  were  marked  by  a  noble  simplicity.  But,  after 
all,  the  irresistible  influence  of  his  sermons  was  due  to 
the  power  of  Gospel  truth  skillfully  applied  and  enforced 
by  "heaven -enkindled  love."  He  spoke  not  as  one 
seeking  applause,  but  as  deeply  concerned  for  the  eternal 
interests  of  his  hearers.  The  unbounded  admiration 
which  his  eloquence  excited  never  seemed  to  move  him 
from  his  dignified  self-possession.  The  earnestness  of  his 
labors  left  him  no  time  for  fashionable  small-talk  or  idle 
ceremony;  yet  he  was  genial  and  agreeable.  I  never 
heard  him  laugh  aloud;  but  when  his  face  was  lighted 
up  with  a  smile  it  shone  all  the  brighter  because  of  its 
usual  sedate  seriousness.  His  lofty  bearing  and  com- 
manding presence  were  not  the  result  of  artificial  acquire- 
ments, but  the  choicest  gifts  of  lavish  Nature.  He  was 
too  proud  to  be  vain,  but  was  rigid  in  his  exactions  of 


308  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

outward  respect.  While  preaching,  if  his  congregation 
failed  in  their  accustomed  attention,  a  shadow  crept 
across  his  brow,  observable  even  through  the  sunlight 
of  his  eloquent  face. 

Dr.  Bascom  had  difficulties  to  encounter  in  his  early 
manhood  which  nothing  but  his  own  irrepressible  energy, 
aided  by  the  grace  of  God  in  his  heart,  enabled  him  to 
overcome.  He  knew  how  to  profit  by  the  lessons  of 
wisdom  taught  in  the  school  of  adversity — a  school  which 
it  would  seem  is  indispensable  to  the  training  of  great 
men.  The  pampered  and  delicate  children  of  easy  for- 
tune are  often  enervated  in  the  bloom  of  life,  and  lulled 
to  inglorious  repose  upon  the  downy  lap  of  prosperity. 

In  contemplating  the  life  of  this  extraordinary  man  we 
are  amazed  at  the  variety  and  multiplicity  of  his  labors. 
In  the  establishment  and  well-being  of  Augusta  College, 
Kentucky,  he  exerted  a  controlling  influence.  Though 
too  poor  himself  to  bestow  upon  it  any  money,  he  subsi- 
dized other  kindred  spirits,  unlocked  their  hoards  and 
hearts,  and  endowed  it  with  his  own  labors.  His  intel- 
lectual qualifications  and  his  moral  greatness  shone  not 
only  here,  but  while  he  served  as  President  of  Transylva- 
nia University.  In  this  wider  field  of  usefulness  he  gained 
the  respect  and  admiration  of  the  community  as  well  as 
the  enthusiastic  love  of  those  under  his  care. 

Dr.  Bascom  was  devotedly  attached  to  Methodism,  and 
clung  to  the  Church  of  his  choice  even  when,  as  was 
more  than  once  the  case,  while  in  the  zenith  of  his  fame, 
temptation  was  placed  before  him  in  the  shape  of  large 
salaries  by  wealthier  denominations.  His  body  was  liter- 
ally a  "living  sacrifice"  to  God  and  duty.  He  completed 
his  self-immolation  in  mid-life,  yet,  philosophically  speak- 
ing, his  death  at  fifty-five  was  not  premature.  His  work 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  309 

was  done,  his  life  had  been  crowded  with  thought  and 
action.  He  died  a  bishop  in  the  Church  in  full  possess- 
ion of  the  confidence  and  love  of  the  people  whom  he 
had  served  so  well  and  faithfully.  His  character  admir- 
ably fitted  him  to  manage  the  affairs  of  the  Church  and 
preside  over  its  conferences. 

John  Newland  Mafftt  was  another  of  those  bright  stars 
in  the  ecclesiastical  firmament  of  America  which  shone 
contemporary  with  Dr.  Bascom. 

More  remarkable  vicissitudes  than  those  of  Mr.  Maffit 
have  rarely  signalized  so  brief  a  career  in  any  age  or 
country.  His  whole  life  was  one  brave  struggle  with 
adverse  circumstances.  No  man  ever  secured  warmer 
friends  nor  provoked  more  unrelenting  enemies.  With- 
out the  advantages  of  early  education,  without  fortune  or 
friends,  he  acquired  by  persevering  industry  an  attractive 
eloquence  which  drew  thousands  of  listeners,  at  the  same 
time  when  Bascom  and  Summerfield  were  electrifying  not 
only  the  religious  communities  of  the  land,  but  causing  a 
prodigious  stir  in  the  outside  world. 

With  fewer  of  the  externals  of  piety  than  usually  man- 
ifest themselves  in  the  clerical  character,  fashionable  in 
his  attire,  polished  in  his  manners,  and  with  a  fondness 
for  excitement,  he  was  denounced  by  many  as  wearing 
the  livery  of  an  ambassador  of  the  meek  and  lowly  Savior, 
while  utterly  destitute  of  living  faith  and  godliness.  On 
the  other  hand,  there  were  others  living  in  close  commu- 
nion with  him,  sharing  his  sympathies  and  familiar  with 
those  inner  traits  of  mind  and  character  so  frequently  con- 
cealed from  the  world,  who  asserted  his  unblemished 
piety,  his  devoted  observance  of  all  the  private  duties  of 
a  Christian  minister,  and  who  triumphantly  appealed  to 
the  fruits  of  his  ministry  as  evidence  of  his  sincerity,  and 


310  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

of  the  aid  and  sanction  he  was  constantly  receiving  from 
heaven. 

Few  men  were  capable  of  producing  a  more  profound 
sensation  in  a  congregation.  Small  of  stature,  but  strik- 
ingly elegant  in  his  personal  appearance,  his  soft  and  mel- 
odious intonations,  faultless  gesticulations,  and  rounded 
periods,  his  glowing  language  and  lofty  imagination,  and, 
more  than  all,  his  prompt  adaptation  to  the  circumstances 
of  his  auditory,  seemed  to  attract  all  tastes  and  furnish 
materials  for  the  conversation  of  the  week  following  the 
delivery  of  a  discourse.  Those  who  censured  him  in  the 
drawing-room  and  on  the  street,  and  were  continually  call- 
ing in  question  his  piety,  listened  enraptured  to  his  words, 
forgetting  the  man  in  the  fascination  of  the  orator.  Al- 
ways persuasive,  never  denunciatory,  he  charmed  and 
soothed  the  heart  with  ^Eolian  melody,  rather  than  stirred 
its  depths  with  the  massive  strains  of  martial  music.  And 
yet  there  were  occasions  when  he  seemed  to  evince  a 
perfect  contempt  for  the  tropes  of  rhetoric  and  the  graces 
of  poetry.  On  such  occasions  he  was  plain,  practical, 
evangelical. 

I  heard  him  for  the  first  time  in  our  dear  little  old 
Methodist  church  in  Shelbyville.  It  had  been  announced 
that  Mr.  Maffit  would  fill  the  Sunday  pulpit,  and  long 
before  the  hour  of  morning  service  every  seat  and  every 
square  inch  of  the  aisles  was  occupied.  At  last  he  arrived, 
and,  tripping  lightly  up  the  pulpit  stairway,  stood  before 
the  almost  breathless  and  expectant  audience.  The  hymn 
was  meekly  and  impressively  read,  and  sung  with  thrilling 
emotion  by  the  Avhole  congregation.  Prayer  followed, 
and  the  preacher,  opening  the  Bible,  prefaced  the  reading 
of  the  text  by  pronouncing  slowly  and  gently,  and  with 
great  solemnity,  "the  Word  of  God."  A  deep  interest 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM,  311 

pervaded  the  assembly.  Many  an  obdurate  heart  was 
softened,  many  a  veteran  of  the  cross  felt  his  hopes  re- 
vived and  his  zeal  rekindled  by  the  anointing  tones  of 
that  searching,  eloquent  sermon.  It  was  long,  but  when 
the  last  sentence  died  upon  the  ear  no  expression  of 
fatigue  was  visible  upon  the  countenances  of  the  attent- 
ive audience,  and  the  preacher's  voice  rang  out  silvery 
to  the  last. 

The  life  of  Maffit  appears  to  have  been  far  from 
infertile  in  incident;  the  incidents,  however,  are  uncon- 
nected and,  perversely  enough,  often  obscure  and  misrep- 
resented. It  would  be  singularly  interesting  to  trace  the 
personal  history  of  this  wayward  genius;  but,  seemingly, 
no  soul  was  magnet  to  his — there  was  none  with  whom 
he  could  mingle  sympathies.  Too  erratic  to  be  fettered 
by  ordinary  conventionalities,  he  would  never  submit  to 
the  regulations  of  a  conference,  and  was  but  an  offshoot 
from  the  Methodist  Church. 

We  can  not  withhold  from  one  the  sun  of  whose  life, 
though  culminating  so  brilliantly,  was  obscured  at  its 
setting  by  clouds  of  calumny  and  abuse,  the  merit  to 
which  he  is  justly  entitled,  and  which,  at  least,  should  be 
recorded  with  his  faults.  The  heart  is  known  only  to 
God;  and  the  unerring  decisions  of  the  last  day  will, 
doubtless,  reverse  more  than  one  earthly  verdict,  which 
seemed  based  upon  conclusive  evidence. 

I  was  never  an  enthusiastic  admirer  of  Mr.  Maffit. 
There  was,  at  times,  much  in  his  demeanor  to  occasion 
distrust  of  his  fitness  for  the  high  and  holy  office  of  the 
ministry;  much  in  his  mode  of  conducting  public  serv- 
ices which  savored  of  a  love  of  the  praise  of  men,  rather 
than  of  a  desire  to  please  God  and  save  souls;  and  yet 
there  is  always  room  for  charity  in  our  estimation  of 


3i2  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

character.  How  do  the  frequent  misconstruction  and 
perversions  of  the  acts  of  men  prove  the  fallibility  of 
human  judgment.  I  was  sufficiently  well  acquainted  with 
this  "much-enduring  man,"  to  be  assured  that  he  was 
slandered — yea,  persecuted  even  unto  death.  He  literally 
died  of  a  broken  heart.  If  guilty  of  half  the  crimes 
charged  against  him,  John  Newland  Maffit  deserves  the 
execration  of  his  race  and  the  most  condign  penalties  of 
a  hereafter ;  but  if  innocent,  as  we  believe  he  was,  he  was 
certainly  a  martyr,  and  has  already  received  a  mar- 
tyr's reward. 

Exuberant  hopefulness  irradiated  for  A  time  the  clouds 
which  lay  dark  in  the  western  horizon  of  his  life, 
and  sustained  him  under  the  most  trying  circumstances; 
but  pursued  with  unrelenting  severity  by  foul-mouthed 
slander,  envy,  and  hatred;  humbled,  prostrated,  and 
crushed,  he  descended,  while  yet  in  the  Summer  of  his 
life,  to  a  sorrowful  grave,  thus  ending  the  sad  evening  of 
a  stormy  life.  No  monumental  stone  marks  his  resting- 
place;  yet  the  Savior  knoweth  his  own,  and  he  judgeth 
not  as  man  judgeth.  May  we  not  hope  to  find  him 
coming  with  his  fellow-laborers,  bringing  his  sheaves  with 
him  to  the  great  "Harvest  Home?" 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  313 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

I  HAD  been  so  long  a  desolate  bird  on  the  wide  waste 
of  life's  unstable  waters  that  when  with  folded  wings 
I  rested  in  the  family  homestead,  I  felt  like  the  dove 
sheltered  in  the  ark.  My  dear  little  room  was  near  the 
roof  of  the  house. 

It  was  cold  enough  for  fires.  Winter  was  creeping 
on,  and  a  ruddy  blaze  on  the  hearthstone  filled  the  cozy 
apartment  with  warmth  and  gladness;  and  when  I  sought 
rest  my  head  pressed  a  lavender-scented  pillow  of  unri- 
valed whiteness.  Our  mother  had  brought  from  her  own 
Maryland  home  the  habits  of  thrift  and  industry  that 
characterized  that  estimable  people.  Table  and  towel 
linen,  and,  indeed,  all  the  household  linen  so  abundant 
with  them,  was  of  domestic  manufacture.  No  idle  hands 
were  there,  and  yet  no  bustle.  Quietness  and  regularity 
pervaded  every  department.  They  arose,  breakfasted, 
dined,  supped,  and  went  to  bed  at  exactly  the  same 
hour  the  whole  year  round;  clock-work  was  never  more 
regular.  Spinning  and  twisting  and  reeling,  together 
with  the  swift-flying  shuttle,  did  daily  duty  in  the  right 
time  and  season.  Plenty  reigned  in  the  parlor,  and  there 
was  abundance  in  the  kitchen.  What  a  blessing  to  a 
family  is  a  good  housekeeper!  I  tried  to  take  notes,  but 
all  in  vain, — I  was  born  to  fill  a  different  sphere.  Teach- 
ing was  my  vocation,  and  I  have  always  found  it  easier 
to  take  care  of  girls  than  a  house. 

The  Conference  closed,  and  my  husband  was  stationed 


314  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

in  Louisville,  somewhat  disappointed  that  he  was  not 
placed  in  Shelbyville,  where  I  must  locate.  I  shed  a 
few  natural  tears,  but  love's  simple  magic  swept  the  gath- 
ering shadows  from  my  brow,  and  I  heartily  co-operated 
in  every  arrangement  to  promote  the  good  of  the  Church. 
He  commenced  his  ministerial  duties  in  Louisville  imme- 
diately, living  at  home  and  going  to  his  appointment  the 
latter  part  of  every  week,  circulating  among  his  flock, 
filling  the  pulpit  twice  on  the  Sabbath,  and  generally 
remaining  on  Monday  to  attend  to  his  pastoral  duties. 

The  Fourth  Street  Methodist  Church  was  the  only 
one  at  that  time  in  Louisville.  The  membership  was 
numerous,  and  a  large  congregation  always  in  attendance; 
but  the  minister  had  an  arduous  task  to  perform  because 
of  the  discord  among  the  members,  arising  from  the  tur- 
bulence of  some  of  the  floating  material.  "The  ship  of 
Zion  "  had  been  rocked  by  storms,  and,  at  one  time,  was 
nigh  overwhelmed  by  the  surging  billows;  but  was  saved, 
as  Bishop  M'Kendree  afterwards  observed,  by  the  weekly 
prayer -meetings  of  the  pious  female  members,  whose 
noble  and  constant  devotion  formed  an  era  in  the  life  of 
Louisville  Methodism ;  and  I  can  not  help  saying,  just 
here,  that  I  truly  believe  it  was  owing  much  to  my  hus- 
band's efforts  that  the  anchor  was  finally  fixed  "within 
the  veil."  He  stood  in  the  breach,  stemming  the  adverse 
torrent,  bravely  combating  all  the  unfavorable  circum- 
stances surrounding  the  struggling  Church,  and  met 

opposition 

"  Like  an  unmoved  rock, 
Not  shaken,  but  made  firmer  by  the  shock." 

Before  the  year  closed  many  were  added  to  the 
Church,  peace  dwelt  in  the  tents  of  Israel,  and  there 
was  unity  among  the  brethren.  One,  added  to  the  flock 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  315 

during  this  memorable  year,  became  the  firm  and  unal- 
terable friend  of  the  pastor.  He  had  been  a  dissipated 
man  (I  have  heard  him  tell  the  story),  and  "loved  to  look 
upon  the  wine  when  it  was  red."  His  pious  and  excel- 
lent wife  ceased  not  to  be  present  when  opportunity 
offered  at  the  sanctuary  of  God.  He  would  attend  her 
to  the  door,  but  would  not  enter.  Once,  at  length,  he 
did  so.  Smitten  by  conviction,  he  found  peace  only  in  a 
Savior's  love.  He  cast  away  the  intoxicating  cup,  and 
joined  himself  to  the  people  of  God.  His  house  ever 
offered  a  quiet  nook  for  the  itinerant  Levite.  He  died 
full  of  years.  The  world  misses  him;  and  the  name  of 
Coleman  Daniel  is  emblazoned  among  the  archives  of  the 
beloved  city  with  which  he  was  almost  coeval,  and  by 
which  he  can  never  be  forgotten. 

The  first  Winter  I  spent  in  Kentucky  was  mild  and 
genial,  the  grass  did  not  lose  its  verdure,  there  was 
neither  ice  nor  snow,  and  the  ground  was  scarcely  frozen 
at  any  time  more  than  an  inch  in  depth ;  indeed,  I  do 
not  remember  a  Winter  when  we  had  snow  enough  for 
regular  sleighing,  or  ice  thick  enough  to  put  up,  until 
the  year  1835. 

It  was  on  the  28th  of  December  that  God  gave  to  us 
our  first-born,  a  son  whom  we  called  Benjamin  Pendleton, 
after  my  father  and  my  husband's  brother.  I  need  not 
say  that  this  was  the  child  of  many  prayers,  and  that  he 
was  dedicated  to  Him  who  bestowed  the  gift,  with  thank- 
ful hearts. 

How  pure  the  rill  that  flows  from  the  unsealed  fount- 
ain of  parental  love!  My  cup  of  happiness  was  filled 
with  nectar,  and  I  sipped  the  sparkling  bubbles  with  a 
trembling  joy,  lest,  haply,  they  might  vanish  too  soon, 
or  I  become  intoxicated  with  the  delicious  draught. 


316  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

At  that  time  I  can  truly  say  our  life  floated  a  banner 
of  beauty, — a  warm,  purple  tinge,  like  sunlight  on  the 
river.  The  month  of  March,  1825,  on  one  of  our  cher- 
ished anniversaries,  we  commenced  housekeeping  in  Shel- 
byville.  Has  not  every  observer  of  human  nature  a 
feeling,  in  excess  of  happiness,  that  makes  him  jealous 
of  its  ability  to  last?  I  had  enjoyed  so  much  quiet 
serenity,  such  a  perfect  retreat  from  care,  that  I  dreaded 
a  change,  and  felt  something  like  a  shadow  creeping 
across  my  sunshine;  and,  in  the  words  of  a  great  poet, 
"I  wept  to  have  what  I  so  feared  to  lose."  I  can  never 
forget  how  sad  I  felt  on  leaving  the  pleasant  farm-house, 
with  its  yard  full  of  locust-trees,  which,  though  the  last 
to  don  their  green  glories  and  the  first  to  scatter  them  to 
the  winds,  are  yet  desirable,  because  their  pinnate  leaves 
not  only  afford  a  soft  shade,  but  suffer  the  sunlight  to 
filter  through,  without  obstructing  the  cool  breeze  on  its 
errand  of  mercy,  fanning  the  hot  cheek  and  cooling  the 
fevered  brow. 

Five  months  of  inactivity  had  cultivated  the  indolence 
of  my  nature,  and  I  slightly  shrank  from  entering  again 
the  arena  of  school-teaching.  I  was  singularly  ignorant  of 
every  thing  connected  with  housekeeping,  and  dreaded 
the  ordeal  through  which  I  must  pass  to  render  me  at 
all  efficient.  Our  first  day's  wants  were  anticipated  by 
mother,  and  baskets,  stored  with  provisions  ready  for  the 
table,  preceded  us  to  our  home. 

Our  house,  standing  on  the  brow  of  a  green  and 
goodly  hill,  in  view  of  a  wide  open  country  on  the  north, 
presented  a  scene  of  great  beauty.  Slopes  and  swells 
of  luxuriant  green,  trees  drooping  their  verdant  boughs 
almost  to  the  ground,  lined  the  banks  of  the  stream  that 
swept  around  the  base  of  the  hill,  mingling  the  grand  and 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  317 

the  beautiful  into  an  enchanting  whole;  and  when  we 
first  became  the  occupants  of  this,  our  life-long  residence, 

"  Flowers  were  bursting  on  the  tree, 
And  earth  was  full  of  melody." 

Out  extended  view  rested  upon  cultivated  farms  and  in- 
tervening woodlands,  over  which  the  cool  winds  swept, 
bearing  health  and  fragrance  on  their  wings.  South  of 
us  was  the  dear,  quiet  little  town,  near  enough  to  con- 
tribute all  its  conveniences,  and  yet  so  shut  out  as  to 
leave  us  free  from  the  annoyance  of  public  gatherings  on 
court  days. 

Cheerfulness  is,  perhaps,  the  word  that  best  describes 
the  appearance  of  the  sunny  little  village, — clean,  airy, 
orderly,  and  comfortable, — amply  compensating  for  what- 
ever want  of  modern  elegance  or  modish  luxury  might 
be  observed.  The  county-seat  of  Shelby  owed  much  of 
its  importance  to  its  district  and  circuit  court  sessions 
and  election  days,  which  brought  from  time  to  time  an 
influx  not  only  of  the  county  people  but  of  strangers. 

Several  peculiarities  have  ever  characterized  this  place. 
The  inhabitants,  dwelling  in  their  own  houses,  among 
their  own  people,  and  knowing  but  little  of  the  world 
abroad,  live  too  much  within  doors,  and  there  is,  conse- 
quently, but  little  of  that  social  intercourse  and  inter- 
change of  the  common  courtesies  of  life  that  render  a 
village  life  so  charming;  yet  they  are  "not  forgetful  to 
entertain  strangers,"  and  are  remarkable  for  their  noble 
charities,  liberal  donations,  and  readiness  to  help  in  any 
enterprise  promoting  the  general  good. 

Another  feature  of  this  highly  favored  spot  is  the 
attention  paid  to  public  worship.  With  a  population 
never  exceeding  fifteen  or  sixteen  hundred,  it  has  a  Bap- 
tist, a  Methodist,  a  Presbyterian,  and  Reformed  Church, 

21 


318  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

all  of  them  filled  each  Sabbath  with  a  well-dressed  and 
orderly  congregation.  Not  a  family  in  the  place,  per- 
haps, that  has  not  its  Church-going  member  or  members. 

I  early  came  to  the  conclusion  that  these  same  good 
people  had  become  well  to  do  in  the  world,  or  made 
fortunes,  by  minding  their  own  business;  and  experience 
has  taught  me  that  people  may  be  unsocial,  and  still 
have  hands  "open  as  melting  day  to  the  calls  of  charity;" 
and  though  they  may  not  be  found  upon  the  corners  of 
the  streets,  pharisaically  blowing  their  own  trumpets, 
their  money  is  readily  found  when  sought  for;  and  in 
our  community  those  hearts  that  have  been  trained  to 
give  by  constant  appeals  to  their  charity  are  ever  ready 
to  give  more. 

I  do  not  wish  to  say  too  much  about  Shelbyville;  but 
my  readers  will  pardon  me,  as  it  has  been  so  long  the 
home  of  my  heart.  Shut  out  from  the  busy  mart  of 
men,  no  malarious  surroundings  to  engender  disease  or 
foster  epidemics,  it  is  decidedly  a  healthy  place.  This, 
combined  with  its  rural  beauties,  renders  it  a  desirable 
location  for  a  school.  Here  Spring  wears  her  greenest 
garments,  and  Summer  crowns  her  brow  with  roses 
sweeter  than  the  most  fragrant  exotics.  Here  Autumn 
ripens  her  most  luscious  fruits,  and  Winter  garners  an 
abundant  store  of  golden  apples  and  other  treasures 
for  home  consumption ;  and  though  he  sometimes  crowns 
himself  with  glittering  diamonds,  yet  his  Warm  and  sunny 
smiles  kindle  the  heart  into  rapture  and  dissipate  the 
gloominess  of  the  season. 

Our  first  duty  was  to  erect  a  family  altar,  where  my 
husband  was  to  officiate  daily  when  at  home,  and  I,  by 
agreement,  whenever  he  was  absent,  so  that  this  ordi- 
nance might  never  be  omitted,  unless  providentially.  The 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  319 

recollection  of  many  interesting  scenes  connected  with 
family  prayers  comes  floating  over  me,  like  clouds  from 
the  horizon  of  memory,  with  a  shower  of  emotions  and 
thoughts,  to  receive  whose  precious  fall  my  heart  opens 
like  a  thirsty  flower.  The  time  of  morning  prayers 
was  half  an  hour  before  breakfast, — in  the  evening  soon 
after  supper,  that  the  children  might  not  have  to  sit  up 
too  late,  nor  be  permitted  to  retire  before  this  duty  was 
performed.  We  made  this  arrangement  in  the  beginning, 
and  have  never  found  any  good  reasons  to  change  it;  on 
the  contrary,  when  the  time  became  a  fixed  fact  all  diffi- 
culties vanished.  The  regular  and  punctual  performance 
of  these  duties,  with  all  the  preliminary  sobrieties  of  slow, 
quiet,  and  reverential  manner,  tended  to  inspire  religious 
sentiment  among  our  pupils. 

Mr.  Tevis  was  said  to  be  eloquent  in  prayer,  but  this 
inestimable  gift  was  the  result  of  a  devotional  spirit.  The 
Bible  was  his  constant  companion ;  this  he  read  and 
studied  daily,  and  often  upon  his  knees.  I  have  heard 
him  repeatedly  say  he  never  read  a  novel  in  his  life.  He 
eschewed  political  papers  as  well ;  but  he  was  surrounded 
by  religious  periodicals  and  biographies.  No  one  can 
doubt  that  the  soul,  fed  with  pure  nourishment,  and 
growing,  undisturbed  by  sickly  fancies,  like  a  tree  planted 
by  the  River  of  Waters  and  fed  by  the  dews  of  heaven, 
sends  forth  its  roots  into  a  fertile  soil,  and  lifts  up  its 
branches  into  the  sunlight  of  that  better  land — the  home 
where  it  shall  find  its  proper  sphere. 

From  the  family  altar  the  soul  may  go  forth  on  its 
errand  of  mercy,  its  enterprises  and  missions,  and  there 
return  to  receive  its  rewards.  To  me  this  sacred  institu- 
tion, through  long  years,  through  dangers  and  sorrows,  in 
prosperity  and  adversity,  has  been  an  exhaustless  fountain 


320  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

of  delight  and  purifying  influences.  The  sweetest  type 
of  heaven  is  a  religious  home,  and  heaven  itself  the  home 
for  which  we  are  all  striving.  Prayer  should  begin  every 
day's  labor,  and  stand  at  the  end  of  every  day's  journey. 
This  life  would,  indeed,  be  cheerless  and  meaningless  did 
we  not  discern,  across  the  river  that  separates  it  from  the 
life  beyond,  glimpses  of  pleasant  mansions  prepared  for 
us.  When  God  gives  us  a  home  it  should  be  to  us  and 
our  children  the  fountain  and  reservoir  of  our  daily  life, 
and  family  prayer  should  be  made  a  permanent  and  in- 
dispensable part  of  our  household  duties.  It  is  the  center 
where  all  the  sweet  affections  are  brought  forth  and  nur- 
tured,—  the  spot  to  which  memory  clings  most  fondly, 
and  to  which  the  wanderer  returns  most  gladly. 

God  pity  the  poor  child  who  can  not  associate  his 
youth  with  an  institution  so  rife  with  sweet  religious 
reminiscences,  whence  he  drank  in  life's  freshness,  and 
shaped  the  character  he  bears! 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  321 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

MONDAY,  March  25,  1825,  our  school  opened  with 
eighteen  or  twenty  pupils.  We  did  not  expect  a 
larger  number  .because  we  had  taken  no  pains  to  adver- 
tise in  any  way,  consequently  it  was  not  known  abroad. 
I  had  four  boarders  to  commence  with;  Miss  D.,  a 
tall,  slender  girl  of  fifteen,  with  an  open  countenance, 
fine,  frank  manners,  and  without  much  cultivation,  but 
as  witty  as  if  she  had  been  fed  on  Attic  salt.  Her  quick 
repartees  brought  her  into  frequent  difficulties,  but  her 
unfailing  good  humor  removed  them  as  readily.  She 
was  a  cheerful  companion  and  an  agreeable  girl  in  school. 
Then  there  was  Miss  W. ,  a  laughter-loving,  country 
lassie,  whose  well-molded  form,  golden  hair,  blue  eyes, 
and  glowing  complexion,  rendered  her  one  of  the  sweet- 
est, loveliest  girls  that  ever  romped  upon  the  green- 
sward. She  seemed  born  to  wear  white  hats  wreathed 
with  flowers,  and  to  bring  sunshine  and  laughter  to  the 
play-ground  where  the  fairies  dance.  Another,  Miss  L. 
J.,  a  singularly  interesting  young  person  to  me,  was 
possessed  of  those  delicate  graces  which  rendered  her  a 
model  pupil.  She  was  quiet,  orderly  and  serious  almost 
to  sadness,  with  a  loving  and  tender  heart  that  rendered 
her  the  friend  of  the  younger  pupils,  and  the  aid  and 
counselor  of  her  companions.  Considerably  advanced 
in  her  "teens,"  she  was  ever  meditating  how  she  might 


322  .  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

best   improve  and  fit   herself  for  life's  duties.     Truly  a 
lovely  girl ;  her  full  soul 

'•Rich  as  the  lustrous  gems  which  line 
With  ruddy  light  the  Indian  mine." 

My  fourth  was  Margaret.  The  degenerate  days  of 
"Mags  and  Maggies"  had  not  then  come  to  pass.  Re- 
markable for  her  unobtrusiveness,  she  made  an  impression 
upon  my  mind  as  being  an  agreeable  and  affectionate  girl. 

I  have  before  said,  that  one  may  teach  well  without 
being  in  love  with  the  work,  if  one  has  the  ability  to 
impart  knowledge  and  a  respectable  fund  of  knowledge 
to  impart.  I  had  not  yet  so  learned  to  love  my  voca- 
tion as  not  to  look  forward  through  long  coming  years  to 
the  time,  when  I  might  conscientiously  live  within  the 
limits  of  my  own  domestic  circle;  but  I  bravely  deter- 
mined to  discharge  my  duties  faithfully  and  in  the  fear 
of  God,  encountering  difficulties  that  I  never  could  have 
overcome  by  my  own  unaided  strength.  What  an  ines- 
timable blessing  it  is,  that  our  Heavenly  Father  renders 
pleasant  that  course  of  life  marked  out  by  a  sense  of 
duty!  The  most  rugged  pathways  are  made  smooth, 
while  clouds  of  incense  from  our  grateful  hearts  cast 
their  soft  shadows  around  us  like  blessings  from  the  upper 
world. 

Few  of  my  pupils  had  been  subjected  to  the  whole- 
some discipline  of  a  well-regulated  school, — thus  they 
required  to  be  taught  the  simplest  rudiments  of  know- 
ledge. Some  had  been  properly  instructed,  but  so 
irregularly,  and  by  so  many  different  teachers,  that  I 
found  it  necessary  to  tear  down  a  portion  of  the  super- 
structure and  lay  the  corner-stone  more  firmly — pre- 
paratory to  the  cultivation  of  thorough  intellectual  habits. 

There  was  not   a  positively  disagreeable  girl   among 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  323 

my  limited  number  of  boarders,  the  first  year;  and  my 
day  scholars  were  docile,  and  placed  so  entirely  under  my 
control  by  their  sensible  parents  that  I  passed  many 
pleasant  hours  in  the  school-room, — and  the  fruits  of  my 
efforts  in  their  behalf  soon  became  apparent.  Amid  all 
my  anxiety  for  their  mental  improvement,  one  object  I 
kept  steadily  in  view — the  cultivation  of  the  affections 
and  giving  them  right  views  of  the  claims  of  God  upon 
their  hearts;  and  I  cherish  the  hope  that  at  the  day  of 
final  account  it  may  appear  that  my  labor  was  ' '  not  in 
vain  in  the  Lord." 

We  were  so  situated  that,  unembarrassed  by  other 
considerations,  I  could  so  lay  plans  and  make  arrange- 
ments that  I  felt  myself  at  liberty  to  give  undivided 
attention  to  the  business  of  teaching,  with  the  perfect 
assurance  that  minor  affairs  would  be  promptly  and 
effectively  rendered  subservient  to  this  our  settled  voca- 
tion. I  had  spent  so  much  of  my  life  in  boarding-schools, 
taking  notes  all  the  time,  that  I  was  anxious,  while 
adopting  with  them  the  regular  routine  and  the  salutary 
discipline  necessary  for  success,  to  avoid  the  many  objec- 
tionable features. 

I  determined,  in  the  first  place,  that  my  table  should 
be  well  supplied,  though  I  knew  that  many,  like  the 
rebellious  Israelites,  would  complain  of  the  fare  even 
should  they  have  enough  and  to  spare;  because  it  ever 
has  been  and  ever  will  be  "la  facon  de  parler."  My 
experience  then,  and  nothing  has  since  contradicted  it, 
was  that  those  who  lived  best  at  home  complained  least 
at  school. 

One  evil  I  had  so  much  deprecated  in  other  schools  I 
would  never  submit  to;  namely,  the  girls  congregating 
in  their  rooms,  even  at  intervals  between  school  hours,  to 


324  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

romp  and  gossip.  Their  bed-rooms  should  be  well  aired 
and  kept  in  good  order,  no  matter  how  plain  the  furni- 
ture. This  has  been  carried  out  literally.  The  boarders 
had  free  access  to  their  rooms  until  they  abused  the 
privilege  by  disobedience  of  orders ;  after  which  I  adopted 
a  system  which  has  worked  well  and  brought  good 
results.  More  of  this  anon. 

The  externs  formed  but  a  little  flock  for  the  first  few 
weeks,  but  soon  increased  to  the  number  of  thirty-five  or 
forty,  their  ages  varying  from  ten  to  fifteen — girls  were 
too  old  for  school  at  sixteen !  There  had  been  no  female 
school  of  any  importance  in  the  place  previous  to  our 
coming,  and  yet  the  good  people  of  Shelbyville  were  not 
unmindful  of  the  rising  generation,  sustaining  a  mixed 
school  of  juveniles  in  the  Academy.  There  was  also  a 
"dame  school"  for  little  masters  and  misses  that  were 
not  old  enough  to  enter  the  Academy  and  be  regularly 
instructed. 

No  lapse  of  time  will  ever  efface  from  my  memory 
the  recollections  connected  with  my  first  year's  teaching 
in  Shelbyville ;  and  never  shall  I  forget  what  I  endured 
during  the  receptions  of  the  first  day.  How  clearly  I 
was  scanned,  and  how  thoroughly  examined  by  the  new- 
comers! and  then  the  grave  instructions  and  positive 
injunctions  of  mammas  and  papas,  guardians  and  aunts. 
The  fact  was,  before  the  day  ended  I  was  wearied  into  a 
fit  of  tears  and  glad  to  seek  rest  in  sleep. 

I  arose  the  next  morning,  wearied  in  advance  with  the 
painful  drudgery  before  me,  contrasting  my  anticipated 
future  and  the  cares  upon  me  with  the  quiet  life  I  had 
enjoyed  during  the  last  five  months  in  the  country;  but, 
naturally  buoyant  in  spirit  and  of  a  happy  temperament, 
the  clouds  soon  gave  way  to  sunshine,  and  in  less  than  a 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  325 

week  the  wheels  moved  smoothly  on,  and  again  I  became 
accustomed  to  the  shrill  voices  and  rapid  motions  of 
children,  and  gradually  took  increasing  delight  in  that 
which  at  first  made  my  head  dizzy.  My  Wythe  Court- 
house experience  with  a  large  and  growing  school  was 
put  into  requisition,  and  I  soon  took  deep  interest  in  the 
bright  and  happy  faces  around  me. 

Among  several  little  girls,  day  scholars,  whose  names 
were  enrolled  on  my  first  list,  Avas  one  whose  appearance 
I  remember  so  well,  that  I  can  not  help  drawing  the 
picture  as  it  then  appeared.  A  tiny  girl,  scarce  ten 
years  old,  she  had  traveled  a  flowery  pathway  up  to  that 
time,  chasing  the  butterflies  of  life's  morning,  and  drink- 
ing the  sparkling  dew-drops  from  its  flowers.  Her  laugh- 
ing eyes  looked  searchingly  into  mine,  as  her  mother 
presented  her,  and  seemed  to  say,  "Please,  ma'am,  don't 
be  too  strict."  For  many  years  her  light  footstep  and 
musical  voice  rang  changes  through  corridor  and  hall, 
and  many  a  pleasing  tableau  do  I  recall  connected  with 
this  dancing  fairy  whose  flying  feet  scarce  prevented  the 
grass  from  growing  under  them.  I  loved  her  then  as  a 
pupil,  and  since,  in  blooming  maturity,  as  a  friend.  Two 
daughters,  in  after  years,  were  committed  to  my  care 
and  instruction ;  so  that  link  after  link  has  been  added  to 
the  chain  of  friendship  even  down  to  my  old  age. 

This  is  not  an  isolated  case;  many  others  among  the 
bright  young  girls  of  Shelbyville  are  still  remembered  as 
cheerful  sunbeams,  chasing  away  the  petty  vexations  of 
the  school-room,  and  gleaming  through  the  shadowy 
vista  of  by-gone  days.  I  have  known  these  through  the 
succeeding  eras  of  maidens,  wives,  and  mothers ;  and 
their  daughters  have  occupied  the  same  desks  that'  the 
mothers  did  before  them.  I  confess  to  a  lurking  par. 


326  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

tiality  for  the  grand-children  who  have  stepped  in  one  by 
one,  to  fill  their  appropriate  niche  in  my  heart;  yet  I 
do  not  think  I  have  ever  relaxed  my  discipline  on  that 
account  or  manifested  any  favoritism. 

My  little  commonwealth  grew  so  rapidly  that  I  soon 
found  my  time  fully  occupied  in  teaching,  and  could  look 
but  little  to  the  ways  of  my  household  except  where  the 
girls  were  concerned.  I  was  occupied  at  least  seven 
hours  daily  in  the  literary  department  during  the  first 
year;  taught  drawing  and  French  besides,  and  gave  some 
music  lessons.  There  were,  however,  but  few  pupils  in 
these  accomplishments,  and  I  gave  my  drawing  lessons  in 
the  school-room,  and  my  music  lessons  in  the  intervals 
between  school  hours — often  rocking  the  cradle,  at  the 
same  time,  with  one  foot  or  holding  the  baby  in  my  arms. 

I  have  often  risen  at  three  o'clock  on  a  Winter 
morning  and  sketched  enough  for  the  day's  occupation. 
Many  little  fingers  plied  the  busy  needle  on  gay-bordered 
samplers,  but  I  eschewed  the  tall  brick  houses,  the 
angular  figures  and  stunted  trees  sometimes  decorating 
this  species  of  needle-work,  with  the  twenty  different 
stitches  taught  in  the  olden  times.  I  have  now  before 
me  a  sampler  worked  by  one  of  my  pupils  forty  years 
ago ;  and  though  the  colors  are  faded,  there  is  a  witching 
sweetness  in  the  memories  that  cling  around  its  pale 
flowers,  and  cause  me  to  turn  with  strange  tenderness  to 
the  past. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  327 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

A  FEW  months  increased  my  boarders  to  the  full 
capacity  of  the  house;  and,  with  all  my  vigilance, 
I  found  myself  totally  unequal  to  the  task  of  contending 
with  the  careless,  slovenly  habits  of  eight  or  ten  light- 
hearted  and  boisterous  girls,  Avithout  drawing  tighter  the 
reins  of  government ;  and  I  appeal  to  every  one  who  has 
had  the  like  thorny  road  to  travel  if  the  wish  has  not 
been  formed  again  and  again  that  mothers  would  begin 
earlier  to  induct  their  daughters  into  habits  of  neatness 
and  regularity.  Think  of  a  number  of  girls  from  differ- 
ent families  and  of  different  ages^  thrown  together  at  a 
boarding-school,  where  there  must  be  a  certain  degree  of 
self-dependence  exercised,  and  of  the  painful  drudgery  of 
being  obliged  to  teach  them  the  most  trivial  things  neces- 
sary to  the  formation  of  tidy  habits !  Many  a  painstaking 
and  affectionate  mother,  injudiciously,  and  sometimes  from 
indolence,  would  rather  do  herself  what  it  is  her  duty  to 
teach  her  young  daughter  to  do ;  while  others  shift  the 
responsibility  upon  a  young  and  inexperienced  governess, 
who  proves  little  better  than  a  nursery -maid  so  far  as 
these  habits  are  concerned. 

During  my  long  career,  I  have  been  afflicted  with 
girls  who,  previous  to  entering  my  family,  had  scarce 
done  more  than  put  on  their  own  shoes  and  stockings, — 
much  less  were  they  able  to  decide  what  dresses  they 
should  wear  day  by  day.  It  gave  me  an  immense  amount 
of  trouble  to  correct  these  inefficient  habits.  It  is  a  hard 


328  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

matter  to  undo,  in  two  or  three  years,  habits  acquired  in 
fourteen  or  fifteen.  "A  place  for  every  thing,  and  every 
thing  in  its  place,"  is  a  maxim  in  every  body's  mouth, 
but  seldom  enforced;  from  the  neglect  of  which  arise 
those  irregularities  which  afflict  most  families. 

One  case  now  presents  itself.  A  young  lady  from 
the  Far  South,  the  unhappy  owner  of  twenty-five  dresses, 
was  found  one  morning  weeping  bitterly,  and  wringing 
her  hands  in  the  deepest  grief.  My  sympathy  was  ex- 
cited towards  the  poor  child  so  far  from  home,  and  I' 
asked,  in  a  soothing  voice: 

"What  is  the  matter?  Have  you  heard  any  bad 
news?" 

"Oh,  no,"  said  she,  her  sobs  increasing  as  if  her  heart 
would  break;  "but " 

"But  what?" 

"I  haven't  got  any  thing  to  put  on." 

The  bed  before  her  was  covered  with  dresses. 

"Why,  what  do  you  mean,  child?  Are  these  not 
yours?" 

"Yes;  but  one  is  torn,  another  has  no  hooks  and 
eyes,  and  there  are  none  of  them  fit  to  wear.  I  wish  I 
was  at  home;  mother  always  told  me  what  dress  to  put 
on,  and  had  them  kept  in  order  for  me." 

And  then  followed  a  fresh  burst  of  tears. 

Children,  if  not  made  to  wait  upon  themselves  as  soon 
as  they  are  able,  will  form  the  items  of  as  untidy  a  gen- 
eration as  ever  trod  the  floor  of  a  school-room,  or  moved 
upon  the  tapis  of  society.  The  teacher  must  therefore 
stem  the  tide,  or  she  will  fail  to  perform  her  duty  to 
parents  and  pupils. 

I  began  my  reform  by  excluding  the  girls  from  their 
bed-chambers  after  they  left  them  in  the  morning.  They 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  329 

made  their  own  beds,  swept  and  dusted  their  rooms,  and 
put  every  thing  in  order  before  the  school  hour.  As 
soon  as  the  school-bell  rang  in  the  morning,  and  after 
the  rooms  had  been  inspected  by  a  careful  eye,  the  doors 
were  locked,  and  the  keys  placed  in  the  hands  of  a  care- 
ful person  appointed  for  that  purpose,  only  giving  the 
girls  the  privilege,  when  necessary,  of  getting  the  key 
and  returning  it  as  soon  as  the  errand  was  performed, — 
thus  making  them  thoughtful  as  to  what  they  might  want 
during  the  day.  This  proved  an  excellent  arrangement. 
If  there  were  several  girls  in  a  room,  the  duty  devolving 
upon  each  in  turn,  of  keeping  the  room  in  order,  made 
them  cautious  in  throwing  articles  of  clothing  about,  know- 
ing the  penalty  would  be  a  demerit  mark,  a  dictionary 
lesson,  or  several  pages  of  extra  writing. 

I  grew  fonder  of  teaching  as  days  and  months  rolled 
on,  and  moved  steadily  onward  with  my  daily  duties, 
courageously  encountering  difficulties,  looking  full  in  the 
face  whatever  was  before  me,  .and  taking  most  conscien- 
tious care  that  my  pupils  should  never  be  neglected,  nor 
the  duties  of  to-day  left  for  to-morrow.  Consequently, 
it  was  not  an  uncommon  thing  for  night  to  find  me  still 
at  my  post,  too  weary  even  to  sigh.  Yet  I  was  never 
gloomy,  never  desponding ;  and  amid  all  my  perplexities 
prayer  and  the  Word  of  God  had  the  living  power  to  stir 
my  heart  to  its  very  depths  and  prevent  that  stupor  and 
apathy  which  sometimes  settles  on  the  soul.  In  the  dark- 
est hours  of  doubt  and  foreboding  I  rested  strongly  upon 
the  abiding  faith  of  my  beloved  husband  as  a  treasure  of 
our  common  life.  Trust  flowed  into  his  heart  as  rivers 
enter  the  sea;  his  soul  was  like  a  well -watered  garden 
planted  by  the  river's  side. 

I  watched  my  flock  constantly,   and  did  not,  as  soon 


330  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

as  school  was  over,  try  to  lose  sight  and  sound  of  chil- 
dren, books,  slates,  and  blackboards.  My  thoughts  were 
ever  with  them,  and  I  was  often  content  to  be  in  the 
school-room  half  the  day  on  Saturday.  Earnestly  desir- 
ing to  make  mine  a  "home  school,"  I  felt  the  responsi- 
bility of  a  mother,  and  was  accessible  to  my  pupils  at 
all  hours  of  the  day,  trying  never  to  be  weary  of  them, 
however  tiresome  they  might  be,  while  I  could  assist, 
teach,  or  comfort  them.  The  only  difference  between 
being  with  them  in  school  and  out  of  it  was  that  I  ex- 
changed long  lessons  for  long  stories,  and  pleasant  con- 
versations ;  and  sometimes  exhortation  and  reproof  ended 
in  watching  over  and  assisting  them  in  their  amusements. 
Thus,  though  they  murmured  at  my  strictness,  the  awk- 
ward and  boisterous  profited  by  reprimand,  and  the 
untidy  and  slovenly  never  rebelled  against  my  authority. 
Many  a  blotted  exercise  was  tossed  into  the  fire;  many 
a  smuggled  novel,  when  found  in  the  corner  of  a  desk, 
was  made  an  auto-da-fe,  to  the  terror  of  evil  doers  and 
the  edification  of  the  younger  girls. 

I  do  not  think  I  was  ever  what  might  be  called  cross 
or  ill-natured ;  nor  did  I  search  out  faults  as  with  a  lighted 
candle,  for  the  express  purpose  of  scolding;  yet  I  was 
often  provoked  by  some  indication  of  latent  disorder — a 
stray  handkerchief,  an  odd  glove,  or  an  old  shoe  peeping 
out  from  its  hiding-place,  indicating  the  propriety  of  a 
general  search  through  desks  and  rooms,  to  find  what 
was  out  of  place,  and  bring  under  my  eye  all  contra- 
band articles. 

It  has  been  a  continued  effort  on  my  part  to  break  up 
that  code  of  morals  so  prevalent  in  schools  and  academies 
by  which  every  species  of  evasion  and  cunning  is  allowa- 
ble to  hoodwink  and  deceive  teachers.  I  have  endeav- 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  331 

ored  to  accomplish  this,  in  the  first  place,  by  giving  the 
girls  no  more  leisure  than  was  good  for  them,  cultivating 
a  spirit  of  candor,  placing  confidence  in  those  who  de- 
served it,  and  making  such  "keepers  of  their  brothers," 
but  by  no  means  spies  or  tale-bearers.  Such  a  course, 
judiciously  carried  out,  will  not  utterly  fail  of  the'  de- 
sired effect. 

There  is  nothing  more  painful  to  me  than  to  hear  men 
and  women  boast  of  the  scrapes  and  practical  jokes  of 
'their  school -days,  concealing  lies  and  dishonesty  under 
the  name  of  harmless  fun.  Such  a  course  of  conduct  at 
school  lays  the  foundation  of  an  unstable,  unreliable 
character  in  after  life;  and,  if  viewed  through  the  crystal 
medium  of  truth,  is  calculated  to  make  one  shudder  at 
the  possible  consequences  of  bad  habits  early  formed. 
These  "innocent  pleasures!"  "harmless  sports!"  often 
fatally  lead  inconsiderate  young  persons  astray.  When- 
ever my  watchful  eye  has  detected,  or  the  vigilance  of 
my  assistants  discovered,  any  irregularity,  it  has  been 
promptly  and  efficiently  put  down.  The  rules  by  which 
the  family  and  school  have  always  been  governed  are  few 
and  simple,  and  have  needed  no  printed  cards  to  enforce 
them.  They  were  positive,  but  not  severe. 

I  have  cautiously  avoided  that  disagreeable  and  ob- 
noxious proclivity  so  often  observed  in  teachers  and 
parents,  favoritism,  rigidly  eschewing  all  undue  partiality. 
The  fact  was  well  understood  throughout  the  household 
that  our  laws  were  not  cobwebs,  made  to  entangle  the 
weak,  but  through  which  the  strong  might  break  with 
impunity.  The  moral  and  religious  discipline  exer- 
cised has  been  generally  attended  with  the  happiest 
results.  We  have  tried  to  make  the  pupils  feel  that  their 
interests  were  our  interests.  There  is  nothing  so  fatal  as 


332  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

party  spirit  in  a  juvenile  community, — one  common  bond 
must  exist.  Teachers  and  scholars  should  never  stand  in 
the  attitude  of  belligerents;  and  from  the  time  a  pupil 
entered  the  institution  she  became  one  of  us. 

Pocket-money  has  never  been  left  at  the  disposal  of 
the  pupils,  but  immediately  placed  to  the  credit  of  the 
parents  and  guardians;  neither  have  th«y  been  allowed  to 
make  bills  on  their  own  responsibility,  but  all  their  wants 
being  referred  to  me,  our  accounts,  presented  half-yearly, 
included  every  expenditure.  No  indulgence  within  the 
limits  of  prudence  has  been  denied  them,  while  every 
thing  necessary  to  promote  their  comfort  and  facilitate 
their  improvement  was  supplied.  This  has  obviated  all 
fictitious  distinctions  formed  upon  an  undue  amount  of 
"spending  money"  on  the  one  side,  and  a  meagre  allow- 
ance on  the  other,  and  the  harmony  and  good-will  of  the 
whole  has  been  promoted.  A  strict  adherence  to  this 
wholesome  regulation  has  worked  wonders  in  producing  a 
contented  spirit, — the  wisdom  of  which  has  been  proved 
by  years  of  experience. 

Every  girl,  except  the  very  young,  has  been  required 
to  keep  her  wardrobe  in  order;  and  I  have  found  the 
Southern  girls,  though  supposed  to  be  thriftless  and  self- 
indulgent,  well  acquainted  with  the  use  of  the  needle, 
and  quite  willing  to  use  it  in  plain  sewing;  many  of  them, 
accustomed  to  have  a  servant  for  each  finger  and  toe, 
readily  and  cheerfully  falling  into  our  way  of  helping 
themselves,  rejoicing,  as  it  were,  in  their  emancipation 
from  the  conventionalities  so  rife  in  Slave  States.  True, 
it  was  hard  at  first  to  pick  up  their  own  skirts,  hang  up 
their  own  bonnets,  and  fold  up  their  own  shawls ;  but 
they  very  soon  learned  to  dispense  with  "Phoebe"  and 
"Quashy, "  and  cheerfully  submitted  to  the  pains  and 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  333 

penalties  that  marked  the  road  to  the  desired  attainment 
of  those  useful  habits  which  must  be  practiced  in  after  life. 

On  the  contrary,  I  have  known  some  from  the  Free 
States,  whose  mothers  were  models  in  their  housekeeping 
arrangements,  the  very  atmosphere  in  which  the  young 
plants  had  lived  being  infected  with  fastidious  neatness, 
who,  when  transplanted  to  a  boarding-school,  were  pro- 
verbially careless  and  slovenly.  Mamma  was  too  neat  to 
endure  the  failures  of  the  daughter's  early  efforts,  and 
preferred  doing  to  the  trouble  of  giving  line  upon  line 
and  precept  upon  precept. 

Alas,  how  much  have  I  suffered  from  this  omission, 
and  the  necessity  of  trying  to  fill  up  the  gaps  left  by 
good  and  otherwise  painstaking  mothers! 

My  amplification  upon  this  subject  will  be  readily 
pardoned  as  this  work  is  intended  partly  as  a  guide-book 
for  young  and  inexperienced  teachers.  I  recollect  how 
anxiously  I  sought  instruction  upon  such  subjects,  and 
was  enlightened  only  after  a  long  and  somewhat  painful 
experience,  and  I  do  not  wish  my  experience  to  die 
with  me. 

In  this  connection  I  have  often  lamented  neglect  with 
regard  to  the  early  formation  of  character  upon  the  im- 
mutable basis  of  truth.  This  should  begin  at  the  first 
dawn  of  reason.  We  are  taught  in  the  Bible  that  the 
enemy  of  souls  is  never  idle;  and  if  we  do  not  cultivate 
the  virgin  soil  Satan  will  do  it  for  us.  Power  is  possessed 
by  the  early  guardians  of  the  human  soul  to  grow  the 
good  seed  of  truth  while  the  soil  is  still  wet  with  the  dew 
of  heavenly  grace,  in  virtue  of  the  sacrificial  death  of 
Christ  "Time  enough  yet,"  is  a  fatal  delusion. 

Our  first   session   passed  off  pleasantly,  and,  though 

principally  composed  of  raw  material,   we   managed  by 

22 


334  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

persevering  industry  to  weave  a  tissue  of  considerable 
strength  and  beauty  for  our  examination  in  July,  when 
the  exhibited  attainments  of  the  pupils,  by  a  thorough 
sifting  of  the  classes,  proved  to  a  curious  and  inquisitive 
audience  that  our  method  of  teaching  was  well  adapted 
to  draw  forth  even  the  most  latent  capacity,  and  elicit 
some  sparks  from  the  cold  steel  of  the  dullest  brain. 

The  finale  of  that  examination  was  beautiful, — every 
body  was  charmed,  and  none  more  so  than  the  children, 
going  home  for  the  holidays  with  gratified  fathers  and 
mothers,  delighted  to  be  free  from  school  restraints  for  a 
season,  that  they  might  frolic  in  the  woods  and  play 
"hide-and-go-seek"  amid  the  tangled  shade  and  sunshine. 
The  grass  and  the  flowers  and  the  trees  were  never  so 
full  of  beauty  to  them,  as  if  in  reward  for  their  long 
confinement. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  335 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

OUR  vacation  was  spent  in  making  improvements  pre- 
paratory to  the  next  session.  September  came, 
and,  though  Summer  had  gathered  up  her  gorgeous 
robes  and  like  a  dream  of  beauty  glided  away,  her  warm 
smiles  yet  lingered,  heralding  the  approach  of  an  Indian 
Summer.  I  knew  from  the  many  applications  that  our 
school  would  be  full,  but  had  not  anticipated  a  crowded 
opening.  In  less  than  a  week  the  school-room  was  rilled 
almost  to  overflowing — not  a  niche  unoccupied — and  we 
had  as  many  boarders  as  we  could  accommodate. 

The  scenes  and  events  connected  with  this  year  were 
so  .many  and  so  varied,  that  much  of  interest  has  escaped 
my  memory.  Among  my  new  pupils  was  a  gentle,  timid 
girl  from  the  far  South.  This  only  and  beloved  daughter 
of  a  tender  father  had  been  reared  like  a  hot-house 
plant,  and  when  she  reached  the  age  of  fourteen,  her 
father  wisely  determined  to  send  her  to  Kentucky,  his 
own  native  State,  that  the  cool  breath  of  a  Wintery 
sky  might  strengthen  her  constitution  and  bring  out  the 
roses  on  her  cheeks. 

A  gentle,  drooping  creature,  she  blushed  on  being 
looked  at,  and  dreaded  to  be  spoken  to,  reminding  one 
of  the  shrinking  mimosa.  Large,  luminous  eyes,  a  pro- 
fusion of  soft  brown  hair,  and  a  sweet,  flitting  smile 
which  came  out  like  sunlight  over  her  pale  brow  and  fair 
face,  when  pleased  or  excited,  rendered  her  exceedingly 
attractive.  She  had  been  always  feeble;  probably  in 


3  3  6  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

consequence  of  too  much  nursing,  and  her  father  asked 
permission  to  send  a  servant  maid  to  wait  upon  her  at 
school.  This  was  declined  upon  the  plea,  that,  if  in 
sufficiently  good  health  to  be  at  school,  with  proper 
attention  on  our  part,  she  would  need  no  such  assistance. 
She  must  learn  self-dependence  by  being  kindly  and 
gradually  urged  onward. 

The  first  week  was  full  of  trials  to  the  little  exotic, 
but  they  were  nobly  overcome  by  her  perseverance.  To 
make  up  her  bed  was  her  first  trial;  in  this  she  succeeded 
only  after  an  hour's  continued  effort,  taking  several  resting 
spells.  She  soon  found  use  for  her  hands  and  feet  as  well 
as  her  mind.  It  was  scarcely  ever  necessary  to  chide  her, 
she  was  so  gentle,  and  there  was  something  with  this  gen- 
tleness, of  purity  and  dignity  that  clung  to  her  like  a 
garment — insuring  respect  as  well  as  love;  and  with  it 
all,  a  natural  taste  for  elegance  and  refinement.  The 
grandmother  of  this  young  lady  lived  within  a  few  miles  of 
Shelbyville,  and  being  provided  with  a  beautiful  little 
carriage  and  two  ponies  by  her  indulgent  father,  the 
arrangement  was  made  that  she  should  go  every  Friday 
evening  to  spend  Saturday  and  Sunday  with  her  aged 
relative.  This  afforded  ample  opportunity  for  country 
air  and  exercise,  so  that  this  delicate  and  fragile  girl, 
before  many  weeks  had  passed,  began  to  bloom  with  a 
freshness  and  beauty  almost  marvelous.  As  the  ele- 
ments of  health  breathed  roses  on  her  cheeks,  and 
"touched  her  soul  to  finer  issues,"  the  golden  rays  of 
intellect  fell  upon  the  mind  and  ripened  its  expanding 
faculties. 

Mr.  Tevis,  though  as  much  as  ever  devoted  to  his 
sacred  calling,  found  time  to  give  his  personal  attention 
to  some  classes,  attending  also  to  the  general  business  of 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  337 

the  establishment;  indeed,  he  was  so  completely  iden- 
tified with  the  institution  as  to  embody  his  firm  and 
unyielding  views  of  right  and  wrong  with  it;  and  it  was 
my  highest  aspiration  to  co-operate  with  him,  in  striving 
to  render  our  school  acceptable  in  the  sight  of  God.  We 
desired  that  the  examples  given  and  the  precepts  taught 
therein  should  be  a  practical  comment  upon  the  truth  of 
Divine  Revelation,  and  determined  from  the  outset  that 
while  the  mind  should  be  cultivated,  and  the  manners  of 
our  pupils  rendered  easy  and  graceful,  dancing  should 
never  be  taught  within  its  walls;  and  that  those  placed 
under  our  charge  should  never  attend  dancing  parties — 
nor,  indeed,  parties  of  any  kind  during  the  session. 

Music  in  its  sweetest  and  most  elevated  character 
was  cultivated,  and  no  real  accomplishment  neglected, 
feeling  it  to  be  a  fact,  that  nothing  better  can  be  done  for 
a  bright  girl  next  to  forming  her  religious  principles,  than 
to  open  her  vision  to  the  loveliness  with  which  God  has 
been  pleased  to  fill  creation,  and  make  fact  of  what  the 
the  poet  says, — 

"To  her  there  is  a  story  in  every  breeze 
And  a  picture  in  every  wave." 

Cultivating  a  taste  for  the  fine  arts  is  part  of  a  liberal 
education,  and  throws  an  atmosphere  of  refinement  around 
well-instructed  minds,  that  favors  all  beautiful  growth 
of  thought. 

One  Monday  morning  our  little  Southern  girl  failed  to 
return;  this  was  unusual,  but  it  was  a  dreary  day,  and 
we  thought  it  possible  she  might  be  detained  on  that 
account.  The  afternoon  came,  and  the  sun  shone  pleas- 
antly; still  she  did  not  make  her  appearance.  Just 
before  school  closed  it  was  whispered  in  my  ear,  "Mrs. 
has  a  dancing  party  this  evening,  and  Miss  L.  is 


338  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

there  to  attend  it."  I  felt  very  anxious  and  troubled, 
scarce  knowing  what  to  do.  She  well  knew  she  was 
violating  one  of  the  most  positive  regulations  of  the 
family.  Should  it  be  passed  by  unnoticed?  Immediately 
after  supper  I  communicated  it  to  Mr.  Tevis.  He  picked 
up  his  hat  without  a  moment's  hesitation,  saying, 

"I  will  go  for  her."  Mrs.  B. 's  home  was  only  about 
a  hundred  yards  distant. 

"Stop  a  moment,"  said  I,  "wait  until  she  returns  to- 
morrow morning;  perhaps  she  can  give  some  good 
excuse." 

"I  think  it  best  to  attend  to  it  now,"  he  replied. 

I  waited  his  return  with  intense  anxiety,  knowing 
well  what  would  be  the  consequence  if  she  did  not  return 
with  him;  and  I  loved  her  too  well  to  be  willing  to 
part  with  her  under  such  circumstances. 

Scarce  half  an  hour  had  elapsed  when  my  husband's 
well-known  footstep  was  heard.  I  met  him  at  the  door 
just  in  time  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  Miss  L. 's  slight  figure 
as  she  passed  quickly  by  me  and  ran  hastily  up  stairs. 

"She  has  returned,  tell  me  all  about  it,"  said  I. 

Mr.  Tevis  replied,  "I  called  for  Miss  L.,  and  was 
admitted  into  a  room  where  Mrs.  was  superin- 
tending the  last  touch  of  her  cousin's  toilet  before  she 
should  enter  the  ball-room.  Declining  an  offered  seat  I 
told  Miss  L.  I  had  come  to  take  her  home." 

"She  can  not  go,  sir;  she  is  engaged  to  spend  the 
evening  with  me." 

' '  We  do  not  permit  our  boarders  to  attend  dancing 
parties,  madam." 

"She  is  only  your  boarder  from  Monday  morning 
until  Friday  evening,"  replied  the  lady. 

"This  is  Monday  evening,"  said  Mr.  Tevis. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  339 

"True,  but  she  came  here  without  going  to  your 
house  this  morning,  and  you  have  no  right  to  take  her 
home  with  you  under  the  circumstances." 

"I  differ  with  you,  madam,  and  insist  upon  Miss  L.'s 
returning  with  me  immediately  or  not  returning  at  all  to 
my  house." 

The  timid  girl  stood  motionless  in  the  middle  of  the 
floor,  her  downcast  eyes  filled  with  tears.  Turning  to 
her,  Mr.  Tevis  said, 

"Miss  L.,  will  you  go  with  me,  and  remain  under  our 
guidance  and  protection  where  your  father  placed  you,  or 
will  you  stay  here,  and  take  the  consequences?" 

"I  will  go  with  you,  Mr.  Tevis,"  she  said,  springing 
forward  and  seizing  his  arm,  as  if  afraid  to  hesitate;  and, 
hastily  snatching  up  her  sun-bonnet  she  pulled  it  over  her 
face  as  if  to  exclude  every  surrounding  object,  and  walked 
out,  regardless  of  the  angry  gesticulations  of  her  disap- 
pointed relative.  Not  a  word  was  spoken  on  their  way 
home ;  it  was  the  triumph  of  right  principle  and  I  was  sat- 
isfied. My  heart  yearned  over  the  gentle  girl,  and  I  could 
not  sleep  without  seeing  her.  Going  up  into  her  room  I 
found  her  with  her  face  hidden  in  the  bedclothes,  sobbing 
as  if  her  heart  would  break.  I  tried  to  soothe  her  by 
expressions  of  approbation  for  her  decision ;  and  though 
she  uttered  no  word  in  reply,  I  felt  that  my  kindness  had 
the  desired  effect,  and  left  her  to  sleep  away  her  sorrows. 
The  next  morning  she  was  down  bright  and  early,  deeply 
engrossed  with  her  books.  Not  the  slightest  allusion 
was  made  to  the  past,  but  I  noticed  the  drooping  eyelid, 
and  saw  how  the  soft  color  came  and  went  upon  her 
cheek,  and  her  evident  embarrassment  mingled  with 
shyness  whenever  Mr.  Tevis  spoke  to  her,  though  in  his 
tone  and  manner  there  was  no  remembrancer. 


340  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

This  affair  made  a  great  deal  of  talk  in  our  little 
town,  and  stirred  up  the  dancing  element  amazingly. 
My  brother-in-law,  thoroughly  a  man  of  the  world,  but 
truly  interested  in  our  prosperity,  expressed  his  fears 
that  this  arbitrary  measure  would  blight  our  prospects. 

"Brother  John,  you  will  ruin  your  school;  people  will 
not  submit  to  such  dictation." 

"They  must,  if  they  place  their  children  under  our 
care.  I  shall  never  compromise  with  the  world,  nor  seek 
favor  but  from  God,  to  whom  I  have  committed  my 
soul's  best  interest,  and  with  whom  I  am  also  willing  to 
trust  my  temporal  prosperity." 

We  lost  no  pupils,  and  the  event  proved  that  the 
confidence  of  parents  and  guardians  was  more  firmly 
established  than  ever.  We  had  no  further  trouble,  and 
Miss  L.  continued  one  of  the  most  tractable,  studious, 
and  affectionate  of  our  pupils  during  the  three  years  she 
remained  with  us.  She  came  to  us  a  frail  and  delicate 
blossom,  she  went  home  with  a  constitution  so  firmly 
established  that  she  outlived  three  husbands,  was  the 
mother  of  a  family  of  children,  and  died  only  four 
years  ago. 

I  would  repeat  here  that  I  do  most  heartily  condemn 
dancing;  its  associations  and  its  influence  upon  the  gen- 
eral system  of  society  being  pernicious  in  the  extreme. 
Dulling  the  sense  of  moral  feeling,  it  establishes  the 
reign  of  false  appearances,  lowers  the  standard  of  true 
taste,  and  drives  from  its  circle  those  by  whose  virtues 
or  by  whose  talents  that  circle  might  be  adorned.  How 
often  do  we  see  young  persons,  whose  independent  spirit 
would  make  them  shrink  from  the  hurtful  influence  of 
the  hollow  pretensions  and  empty  parade  of  the  world's 
low  pleasures,  and  those  captivating  and  dangerous  lures 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  341 

which  beset  the  pathway  of  the  young,  wanting  in  that 
mental  vigor  supported  by  moral  and  religious  rectitude, 
Avhich  would  secure  the  firmness  to  resist  hurtful  al- 
lurements. Yet  parents  should  studiously  avoid  that 
cold  severity  in  which  young  minds  find  an  excuse  for 
artful  conduct.  Let  the  young  also  remember  that  a 
crooked  policy,  even  under  the  most  trying  circum- 
stances, always  brings  a  thousand  nameless  terrors,  cal- 
culated to  destroy  all  peace  of  mind. 

I  have  before  remarked  that  one  of  the  greatest  afflic- 
tions in  a  commonwealth  of  young  girls  who  have  not 
been  accustomed  to  look  after  their  own  wearing  apparel 
is  their  reckless  abandon  with  regard  to  such  matters; 
and  nothing  tends  more  to  encourage  slovenly  habits 
than  too  extensive  a  wardrobe.  Give  a  school-girl  just 
enough,  and  she  will  learn  to  dress  with  more  taste,  and 
display  more  ingenuity  in  keeping  her  clothes  in  order, 
bringing  into  exercise  that  constant  industry  which  will 
teach  her  to  make  her  toilet  quickly  and  give  her  a 
womanly  tact  which  could  scarcely  be  acquired  under 
other  circumstances.  A  contrary  course  multiplies  our 
Flora  M'Flimseys  to  a  frightful  extent,  reminding  one  of 
the  sailor  who  said  "he  never  could  do  any  thing  with 
his  rope  if  it  was  too  long,  but  if  it  was  too  short  he 
could  splice  it." 

Young  girls  are  apt  to  be  charmed  with  "braided 
hair,  or  gold,  or  pearls,  or  costly  array,"  and  to  conclude 
that  they  are  respectable  and  admired  in  proportion  as 
they  are  fine;  but  I  know  by  experience  that  the  touch 
of  velvets  and  the  gloss  of  silks,  together  with  flowers 
and  feathers,  have  but  little  virtue  to  reconcile  them  to 
close  application,  or  school  duties  generally. 

For  the   benefit  of  inexperienced    matrons    in    large 


342  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

schools,  where  pupils  of  various  ages  and  acquirements 
are  mingled,  I  would  suggest  a  plan  that  I  have  found  to 
work  exceedingly  well;  namely,  selecting  for  the  younger 
pupils  what  are  called  in  English  institutions  "school 
mothers,"  who  shall  take  particular  supervision  of  the 
pupils  placed  under  their  care,  assisting  them  in  their 
lessons,  keeping  their  wearing  apparel  in  order,  and,  in 
fact,  helping  them  to  acquire  good  habits,  referring  to  a 
superior  when  necessary.  I  have  known  many  dear  little 
girls,  that  would  have  been  otherwise  lost  amid  the 
bustle  of  a  large  school,  thrive  rapidly  under  this  double 
training.  Thus,  while  every  body  concedes  the  fact  that 
a  boarding-school  is  not  the  most  suitable  place  for  a 
little  girl,  yet  such  direct  and  individual  attention  is  an 
excellent  means  of  forming  the  character,  cultivating  the 
manners,  developing  the  affections,  and  nourishing  much 
that  is  lovely  and  of  good  report  in  many  an  orphan 
deprived  of  parental  care  when  most  needed. 

But,  after  all,  no  one  can  so  well  form  the  character 
as  a  judicious  and  religious  mother,  who  has  the  best 
right  to  a  permanent  place  in  her  daughter's  heart,  and 
who  can  throw  around  her  the  necessary  restrictions, 
without  exposing  her  to  the  hurtful  influences  of  unsuit- 
able associations.  The  mother  can  best  prevent  the  de- 
velopment of  that  unlovely  trait  of  character  which  leads 
her  to  complain  of  those  whom  she  should  respect,  and 
who  really  deserve  her  gratitude.  Yet  we  often  find  in 
a  Avell-regulated  school  more  vigilance  exercised  in  the 
inculcation  of  moral  principle  than  in  the  far  better  op- 
portunities of  home.  Children  are  not  taught  early 
enough  to  ask,  "What  is  truth?"  and  made  to  know  that 
"lying  lips  are  an  abomination  unto  the  Lord." 

Many   incidents   occurring    in    my   own    school   have 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  343 

impressed  and  deepened  these  reflections.  Let  me  give 
a  case  in  point. 

"Come,  Mary,  the  bell  rang  more  than  five  minutes 
ago.  Get  up,  or  you  '11  be  punished  for  disobeying  the 
rules,"  exclaimed  Jane,  as  she  seized  the  cover  under 
which  the  indolent  girl  had  buried  herself. 

"Let  me  alone,"  cried  Mary,  angrily;  "I  shall  sleep 
as  long  as  I  choose.  But,  look;  now  I  am  up" — and 
she  jumped  out  upon  the  floor.  "See,  girls,  I'm  reg- 
ularly up!" 

They  looked  around,  when,  deliberately  betaking  her- 
self to  bed,  she  prepared  for  a  second  nap. 

"Do  you  call  that  getting  up?" 

"To  be  sure  I  do;  did  n't  I  get  up?" 

"Suppose  you  should  be  asked  if  you  arose  when  the 
bell  rang,  should  you  say  yes?" 

"Yes;  why  not?  I  certainly  did  get  up.  Nothing  is 
said  in  the  rules  about  lying  down  again." 

"Well,  that  is  a  funny  way  of  keeping  the  rules," 
said  a  little  blue -eyed  listener,  who  was  putting  on  her 
shoes  and  stockings.  "That  's  keeping  the  rules,  and 
not  keeping  them  either.  Well,  I  should  follow  your 
example  if  I  were  not  almost  dressed." 

"  It  's  a  downright  breaking  of  the  rules,"  interposed 
Jane,  "and  nothing  else." 

"  It  does  seem  so,"  said  the  little  girl,  who  was  under 
Jane's  charge,  and  whose  notions  of  right  and  wrong 
were  not  so  clear  as  they  should  be;  "and  yet  she  did 
get  up." 

"She  obeys  the  letter,"  said  the  other,  "but  breaks 
the  spirit  of  the  law.  The  rule  says  we  shall  rise  and 
dress  when  the  bell  rings,  and  attend  to  our  morning 
duties." 


344  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

"Nonsense!"  cried  the  sluggard,  vexed  in  spite  of 
herself  at  the  serious  manner  in  which  her  delinquency 
was  regarded.  "Who  can  be  so  particular  as  all  that? 
What  harm  is  there  in  sleeping  when  we  want  to?  I  am 
not  afraid  of  your  preaching." 

"No,"  said  Jane;  "but  you  ought  to  be  afraid  of 
doing  wrong." 

This  was  sowing  seed  by  the  wayside,  and  some  of  it 
fell  upon  good  ground;  for  the  little,  earnest  listener 
referred  to  received  the  truth,  and  it  nestled  in  her  heart 
like  the  dewdrop  in  the  flower-cup. 

An  hour  passed.  The  prayer-bell  rang ;  and  poor  Mary, 
whose  uneasy  conscience  permitted  her  to  sleep  but  lightly, 
sprang  up,  and  in  great  trepidation  tried  to  dress  in  time; 
but  her  utmost  efforts  only  enabled  her  to  creep  stealthily 
into  the  chapel  and  slide  down  on  her  knees,  where,  in- 
stead of  praying,  she  was  doubtless  thinking  how  she 
could  excuse  her  late  appearance;  and  when  called  on 
she  pleaded  in  excuse  "a  very  bad  headache,"  thus  add- 
ing lying  to  disobedience.  One  sin  always  opens  the  way 
for  another,  and  true  it  is,  "Ce  riest  que'le  premier  pas 
qui  conte." 

Children  of  warm  imagination  are  apt  to  view  things 
through  a  deceptive  medium.  Turning  away  from  the 
homely  garb  of  truth,  and  trusting  to  their  own  unformed 
judgments,  they  launch  out  upon  the  perilous  sea  of  ex- 
aggeration, without  rudder  or  compass.  Laughed  at, 
flattered,  and  even  admired  by  the  silly  and  inconsid- 
erate, they  sail  for  a  while  smoothly  onward,  rejecting 
the  warnings,  the  admonitions,  and  the  communicated 
experience  of  those  who  have  observantly  performed  the 
voyage  of  life,  until  wrecked  amid  the  storm  and  tempest 
of  their  own  delusions. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  345 

There  is  but  one  way  to  secure  that  true  elevation  of 
character,  which  is,  neither  to  "lie  nor  be  associated  with 
liars."  Children's  minds  should  be  so  rooted  and 
grounded  in  the  conviction  of  the  truth  of  Divine  Reve- 
lation that  nothing  earthly  shall  be  able  to  shake  their 
faith  in  the  awful  declaration,  ' '  Whosoever  loveth  and 
maketh  a  lie"  shall  have  no  right  to  the  tree  of  life,  nor 
shall  they  "enter  in  through  the  gates  into  the  city." 

The  all-pervading  influence  of  my  husband's  consistent 
piety  was  felt  in  every  department  of  our  household. 
We  tried  from'  the  beginning  to  make  the  Sabbath  a 
means  of  securing  more  religious  instruction  than  under 
ordinary  circumstances.  The  Fourth  Commandment  was 
carefully  enforced,  as  far  as  possible,  upon  all  under  our 
control.  My  good  husband  literally  found  the  Sabbath 
"a  delight,"  and  not  only  by  precept,  but  by  example 
so  eminently  beautiful,  taught  others,  "  If  thou  turn  away 
thy  foot  from  the  Sabbath,  from  doing  thy  pleasure  on 
my  holy  day,  then  shalt  thou  delight  thyself  in  the 
Lord,"  etc. 

Regarding  the  Sabbath-school  as  the  nursery  of  the 
Church,  we  considered  it  a  duty  and  privilege  to  promote 
its  advancement.  Every  body  belonging  to  the  family 
and  school,  unless  providentially  hindered,  was  found 
there  in  place  and  in  good  time.  I  have  often  thought, 
as  I  listened  to  the  Sabbath-school  children  singing,  that 
I  would  rather  hear  such  a  chorus  of  young  voices  than 
the  most  accomplished  "prima  donna"  that  ever  dazzled 
and  entranced  the  world.  How  sweetly  does  their  sing- 
ing float  around  the  heart  and  fill  the  soul  with  joy ! 
Nature  has  given  to  the  human  voice,  when  bursting  in 
simple  harmony  from  the  spotless  hearts  of  children,  an 
irresistible  power  over  our  sympathies.  "No  ear  so  dull, 


346  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

no  heart  so  cold,"  but  must  feel  that  nothing  on  earth  is 
so  thrilling  as  the  musical  tones  with  which  they  pour 
out  their  unchained  spiriis. 

I  have  superintended  and  taught  during  the  Sunday- 
school  hour  for  many  years,  but  I  can  truly  say,  I  do  not 
remember  ever  to  have  spent  an  irksome  moment  there. 
They  have  been  practically,  as  well  as  poetically,  rosy 
hours — hours  that  have  gone  to  heaven  to  bear  a  good 
report,  I  trust,  for  my  own  soul  as  well  as  the  souls  of 
my  pupils. 

Every  body  attended  Church  at  eleven  o'clock,  and 
this  was  a  fact  so  well  understood,  that  few  and  feeble 
were  the  attempts  made  to  evade  it.  We  had  children 
from  families  of  all  denominations,  yet  I  was  never  sec- 
tarian enough  to  wish  to  proselyte  from  other  Churches 
into  my  own;  but  my  boarders  attended  the  Methodist 
Church,  that  they  might  be  generally,  as  well  as  particu- 
larly, under  my  supervision.  Some  were  permitted,  occa- 
sionally, to  attend  the  Churches  in  which  they  were 
brought  up  or  to  which  they  belonged,  under  proper 
surveillance. 

Having  myself  been  accustomed  to  attend  Church 
twice  on  the  Sabbath,  I  felt  the  necessity  of  substituting 
something  that  would  employ  the  girls  for  an  hour  in 
religious  exercises  in  the  afternoon,  as  our  second  Church 
service  was  at  night.  I  formed,  therefore,  a  Bible  Class 
for  my  boarders,  giving  to  externs  the  privilege  of 
attending,  which  many  of  them  gladly  embraced.  To 
render  the  hour  pleasant  as  possible,  after  passing  over 
one  or  two  chapters  selected  as  topics,  the  girls  were 
encouraged  to  relate  something  from  their  own  expe- 
rience, or  that  they  had  read — incidents,  anecdotes,  or 
short  poetical  recitations,  all  having  a  religious  bearing. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  347 

By  this  means,  many  of  them  acquired  a  store  of  relig- 
ious knowledge  which  told  for  good  upon  their  future 
lives.  This  Bible  Class  has  been  kept  up,  without 
interruption,  during  vacation  as  well  as  term  time,  and 
generally  with  the  happiest  results.  No  one  was  ever 
excused  from  the  class,  but  the  rest  of  the  afternoon 
might  be  spent  as  each  one  chose,  with  the  restriction 
of  being  quiet.  Of  course,  they  were  never  permitted 
to  study  or  attend  to  any  of  their  weekly  duties,  nor 
were  they  compelled  to  attend  the  Church  service  at 
night.  The  influence  of  endeavoring  to  keep  this  holy 
day  was  felt  not  only  throughout  our  own  establishment 
but  extended  itself  to  the  community. 


348  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

IN  the  Fall  of  1826  began  my  acquaintance  and 
friendly  intercourse  with  the  family  of  Mr.  Charles 
Wickliffe.  Elizabeth  was  placed  under  our  care  at  the 
age  of  eleven.  There  was  something  in  the  very  appear- 
ance of  this  young  girl  that  instantly  awakened  my  inter- 
est. She  had  no  self-confidence,  and  was  so  entirely 
dependent  upon  those  around  her,  that  she  clung  closely 
to  my  side  in  and  out  of  school.  Isolated  occupations 
were  irksome  to  her;  she  preferred  even  to  study  with  a 
bevy  of  girls  around  her,  and  could  enjoy  no  pleasure 
unless  shared  with  another.  Loving,  amiable,  and  oblig- 
ing, she  seemed  born  "to  be  the  shadow  of  another 
soul."  I  shall  never  forget  her  introduction  and  how  she 
clung  to  her  father  as  if  afraid  to  let  go  his  hand. 
There  she  stood,  —  her  timid  face,  though  beaming  with 
good  humor,  suffused  with  blushes, — her  voice  when  she 
spoke  scarcely  audible  from  emotion.  When  her  father 
left,  commending  her  to  my  special  care,  she  would  have 
followed  him  had  I  not  gently  restrained  her,  but  in 
a  few  days  she  was  thoroughly  domesticated.  She 
remained  with  us  several  years,  spending  only  her  vaca- 
tions at  home.  There  was  a  winning  simplicity  of  man- 
ner about  this  lovely  girl,  that  drew  me  towards  her 
more  and  more  until,  when  she  left  school,  I  felt  as  if  I 
had  parted  from  one  of  my  own  children.  Her  love  for 
us  was  life-long,  and  at  her  death,  which  occurred  a  few 
years  after  a  happy  marriage,  she  gave  the  strongest  evi- 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  349 

dence  she  could,  of  her  continued  affection,  by  asking 
that  her  youngest  sister  should  be  named  for  me.  She 
was  lovely  in  her  life,  admirable  in  every  relation  she 
sustained;  possessing  that  meek  and  quiet  spirit,  which, 
in  the  sight  of  God,  is  above  all  price.  She  died,  cut 
off  in  her  "youth  and  beauty's  bloom,"  leaving  a  mem- 
ory embalmed  in  the  hearts  of  all  who  knew  her,  and 
went  to  enjoy  in  full  fruition,  the  blessing  pronounced 
upon  the  pure  in  heart. 

Mr.  Wickliffe's  five  daughters  were  principally  edu- 
cated at  our  school,  and  certainly  women  more  lovely, 
more  worthy  of  respect  and  esteem  never  blessed  Amer- 
ican homes,  or  adorned  society;  and  I  proudly  recognize 
them  as  among  my  most  loved  and  cherished  pupils — the 
remembrance  of  whom  brings  light  to  my  eyes  and 
warmth  to  my  heart. 

To  this  family  is  due  some  of  the  happiest  hours  of 
my  Kentucky  life;  and  though  this  is  not  the  place  for 
eulogy,  yet  a  sincere  appreciation  of  these  my  life-long 
friends,  induces  me  to  say  that  Mr.  Wickliffe's  real  worth 
as  a  private  citizen,  independent  of  his  public  career,  for 
that  belongs  to  history,  has  been  felt  and  acknowledged 
by  all  who  have  known  him.  Unlike  many  of  our  great- 
est statesmen,  his  private  life  is  a  model  for  imitation; 
unstained  as  it  has  ever  been,  by  moral  pollution  of  any 
kind,  and  marked  by  a  truthfulness  and  sincerity  result- 
ing from  the  strong  religious  reverence  investing  his  soul, 
Mr.  Wickliffe's  eminent  characteristics  have  ever  been 
fast  fidelity  to  his  friends,  and  a  tenderness  which  ren- 
dered his  presence  agreeable  and  cheering  in  every  do- 
mestic relation;  thus  dignifying  every  position  he  occu- 
pied by  his  high  moral  character,  and  adorning  every 
sphere  in  which  he  moved. 

23 


35°  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

Mrs.  Wickliffe  was  connected  by  marriage  with  my 
husband's  family,  and  when  I  first  knew  her  was  in  the 
full  bloom  of  matronly  beauty.  Her  face  was  rendered 
singularly  attractive  by  eyes  into  whose  depths  one 
might  gaze  with  the  certainty  that  they  were  wells  of 
thought  and  feeling;  these,  though  possessing  a  gazelle- 
like  softness  in  repose,  in  animated  conversation  spark- 
led like  gems  in  the  heaven  of  intellect.  Her  nose  was 
finely  formed,  and  around  her  delicately  chiseled  mouth 
a  sweet  smile  forever  lingered;  and  even  when  her  finely 
set  lips  showed  strength  and  decision,  benevolence  beamed 
from  every  lineament  of  her  face.  Her  conversation 
was  characterized  by  a  delicate  and  respectful  regard  for 
the  feelings  of  others.  None,  even  the  most  insignifi- 
cant, ever  spent  an  hour  with  her  in  conversation  with- 
out feeling  a  degree  of  importance  and  self-complacency 
never  felt  before.  With  an  exquisite  poetical  taste,  she 
always  kept  embalmed  in  her  memory  some  of  the  finest 
selections  from  the  best  authors,  while  the  varied  and 
extensive  information  acquired  by  reading  made  her  an 
entertaining  companion  and  a  choice  friend. 

Her  figure,  of  medium  height,  was  full  of  grace,  and 
every  movement  a  combination  of  ease  and  elegance, 
which  is,  perhaps,  the  most  distinguished  proof  of  a 
noble  mind;  and  which  we  never  fail  to  attribute  to  the 
consciousness  of  good  birth  and  breeding.  Mrs.  Wick- 
liffe was  noted  for  her  unostentatious  benevolence  and 
unusual  kindness  to  the  poor.  "When  the  ear  heard  her, 
then  it  blessed  her;  and  when  the  eye  saw  her,  it  gave 
witness  to  her,  because  she  delivered  the  poor  that  cried, 
and  the  fatherless,  and  him  that  had  none  to  help  him. 
The  blessing  of  him  that  was  ready  to  perish  came  upon 
her,  and  she  caused  the  widow's  heart  to  sing  for  joy." 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  351 

Truly  her  heart  was  alive  with  religious  feeling  and  a 
constant  recognition  of  Bible  truth. 

Long  years  of  unchanging  friendship,  unfettered  by 
the  cold  formalities  of  the  world,  endeared  me  to  Mrs. 
Wickliffe  more  than  words  can  express.  A  constant 
interchange  of  affection  and  feeling  kept  alive  the  flame 
of  love  upon  the  heart's  consecrated  altar;  and,  thank 
heaven,  it  stood  the  test  of  years,  undimmed  by  even  a 
passing  cloud.  But  words  are  both  idle  and  insufficient, 
and  no  flourish  of  sentiment  is  needed  where  the  heart 
is  concerned.  My  beloved  friend  passed  over  Jordan  in 
December,  1863 — "gone  like  a  dream  of  light  and  life." 
Yes,  and,  as  fond  memory  dwells  on  the  delightful  asso- 
ciations of  the  past,  the  image  of  this  dear  friend  comes 
up  warm  and  glowing.  I  almost  feel  the  spirit-breath 
stirring  my  time-bleached  locks — the  vision 

"Wears  no  cold  livery  of  earth, 
But  shows  the  brightness  of  its  birth, 
And  links  my  soul  to  heaven!" 

I  too  have  changed;  the  world  has  wrought  its  "chilling 
task  on  me;  yet  friend  after  friend  departing  forms  one 
more  tie  to  bind  my  spirit  to  its  home. 

Our  first  visit  abroad  was  during  the  vacation  of  1826, 
at  the  house  of  a  relative,  Judge  Davidge.  It  was  the 
season  for  enjoyment,  and  we  were  in  the  right  mood, 
and  in  the  right  ploce.  How  keenly  we  appreciate  rest 
and  liberty  after  long  application  to  business,  however 
pleasant  our  duties  may  have  been;  and  how  different 
from  the  rest,  if  it  may  be  so  termed,  that  follows  the 
dissipated  routine  of  fashionable  idleness. 

I  have  always  been  remarkable  for  an  elasticity  of 
spirit  following  a  release  from  close  confinement.  Our 
road  was  through  a  rich  country,  and  my  happy  soul 


352  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

invested  every  green  tree,  whose  expanding  branches 
were  flung  out  upon  the  air,  with  a  beautiful  mystery. 
Its  web  of  glossy  leaves,  interwoven  with  sunshine,  was 
looked  upon  with  a  blended  feeling  of  reverence  and 
devotion,  as  I  rejoiced  in  the  perfection  of  the  works 
of  God;  and  my  heart  exclaimed,  "My  Father  made 
them  all." 

Our  hostess  was  a  charming  woman  in  the  fullest 
sense  of  the  word.  Though  in  the  maturity  of  woman- 
hood, she  still  had  a  complexion  delicately  fair,  and  a 
brow  as  calm  and  noble  as  on  her  bridal  day.  Health 
and  contentment  shone  in  her  well-defined  and  harmo- 
nious features.  There  was  nothing  of  hurry  and  bustle 
in  her  household  arrangements,  and  no  undue  excitement 
no  matter  how  great  the  number  of  guests.  Her  man- 
ner was  gentle  and  decided,  and  I  never  heard  her  speak 
in  a  loud  tone  of  voice.  She  practiced  in  an  eminent 
degree  those  two  duties  which  run  through  the  Christian 
life  like  the  warp  through  the  woof — <(  blessing  and 
trusting." 

When  religion  flourishes  in  the  soul,  it  knows  how  to 
naturalize  spiritual  things,  and  how  to  spiritualize  natural 
things.  Mrs.  Davidge — and  all  the  country  around  would 
indorse  what  I  say — was  a  rare  instance  of  one  who 
mingled  with  the  world  without  being  of  it,  —  often 
struggling  \vith  domestic  cares  and  perplexities,  and 
courageously  meeting  sorrow,  having  before  I  knew  her 
been  deprived  by  death  of  more  than  half  her  numerous 
family  of  children.  .At  one  time  she  buried  five  in  two 
weeks;  but  during  all  this  her  faith  failed  not,  and  she 
was  never  known  to  "charge  God  foolishly."  Living  in 
the  world  she  had  stemmed  the  tide  of  its  ungodliness 
unsullied  by  its  impurities,  and  without  making  ship- 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  353 

wreck  of  her  hopes.  In  the  genial  atmosphere  of  her 
own  home  she  flourished,  a  model  of  all  that  is  excellent 
in  woman. 

Judge  Davidge  presented  a  fine  specimen  of  our  Ken- 
tucky gentlemen  under  the  old  regime.  He  was  well 
known  and  highly  esteemed  in  his  official  capacity  as 
circuit  judge,  under  the  old  Constitution,  before  the  good 
people  of  Kentucky  had  turned  upside  down  our  most 
stable  foundations,  and  left  us  afloat  upon  the  dangerous 
sea  of  excessive  liberty.  Under  the  old  Constitution  a 
man  had  time  to  practice  his  profession  after  he  learned 
it,  to  the  edification  and  benefit  of  the  community;  now 
he  scarcely  recovers  from  the  excitement  of  his  election 
and  takes  his  seat  in  the  curule  chair  before  he  is  ejected 
by  a  new-comer. 

The  general  character  of  the  Judge's  physiognomy 
was  intelligence,  and  that  perfect  self-possession  born  of 
a  feeling  of  superiority.  A  profound  metaphysician,  his 
logic  and  rhetoric  were  of  the  true  Baconian  school.  He 
presided  with  great  dignity  on  the  bench,  and  never  per- 
mitted the  slightest  disrespect  to  his  official  character, — 
governed  the  jury  with  unflinching  severity,  and  has  been 
known  upon  several  occasions,  when  they  could  not  come 
to  a  decision  in  time,  to  take  them  all  around  the  circuit 
with  him.  He  was  highly  esteemed  for  true  patriotism 
and  statesmanlike  qualities.  His  friendship,  once  secured, 
never  failed,  and  in  truth,  though  he  lived  above  com- 
monplace things,  was  warm,  generous,  and  social.  Such 
friendships  did  the  providence  of  God  lead  me  to  form — 
friendships  which  will  run  parallel  with  the  day  of  eternity. 

I  learned  useful  lessons  from  Mrs.  Davidge  with  regard 
to  the  training  of  children.  She  thought  me  too  strict 
and  too  watchful  over  my  little  boy,  and,  in  fact,  too 


354  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

much  disposed  to  find  fault  with  trifles.  Experience  had 
taught  her  that  a  little  wholesome  neglect  was  sometimes 
beneficial,  and  that  this  might  be  combined  with  real  care 
and  never-ceasing  watchfulness.  "It  does  wonders," 
said  she,  "in  the  work  of  setting  human  beings  on  their 
feet  for  the  life  journey."  To  educate  children  is  to  act 
constantly  upon  their  impressible  natures.  Education 
ought  to  be  the  object  of  home — education  by  example 
as  well  as  precept.  To  inculcate  truthfulness  you  must 
not  make  them  afraid  of  you.  A  confiding,  trusting 
child  will  receive  punishment  as  readily  from  a  kind 
parent  as  he  will  enjoy  reward  from  the  same  source. 

How  deep  the  lessons  of  a  mother's  love,  the  influ- 
ence of  which  is  felt  long,  long  after  the  lips  that  uttered 
them  are  sealed  in  the  silence  of  the  tomb !  In  this  fam- 
ily religion  was  not  altogether  a  Sunday  garment — a  robe 
too  fine  for  common  wear,  put  on  solemnly  once  a  week 
as  upon  state  occasions,  and  gladly  laid  aside  when  the 
occasion  was  over. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  355 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

O  blessed  childhood!  though  quickly 
v_x  passing  away  like  the  falling  of  a  shadow  on  the 
floor,  we  look  back  fondly  upon  it,  ' '  blossom  of  being, 
seen  and  gone." 

Our  second  child,  a  lovely  little  girl,  was  dying. 
Even  now  I  can  not  revert  to  that  day,  though  nearly 
forty  years  have  elapsed,  without  anguish  of  soul.  This 
lotus-blossom  from  the  shores  of  the  River  of  Life,  des- 
tined to  bloom  for  the  short  space  of  twenty-two  months, 
exhaling  its  fragrance  throughout  our  household,  had  filled 
my  cup  of  happiness  to  the  very  brim. 

Little  Mary  was  born  Sunday,  January  15,  1827,  and 
died  on  Sunday,  November  30,  1828.  My  husband  bore 
the  loss  with  the  humble  resignation  of  a  Christian;  but 
he  missed  the  little  pattering  feet  that  often  followed 
him  to  his  private  devotions,  kneeling  down  close  by  his 
side,  echoing  his  sighs  as  if  participating  in  his  fervent 
prayers,  —  never  growing  weary  or  impatient,  no  matter 
how  prolonged  his  stay. 

My  grief,  at  first,  was  almost  beyond  control.  Noth- 
ing but  the  Bible,  which  I  kept  almost  constantly  open 
before  me,  or  the  soothing  voice  of  my  husband  in 
prayer,  could  fit  me  for  my  daily  duties. 

We  often  talk  of  our  submission  to  God  in  the  sun- 
shine, and  then  resist  and  struggle  when  the  storm  arises. 

Our  Southern  pupils  from  this  time  began  to  increase 
in  number;  and  as  the  institution  became  known  abroad 


356  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

through  the  medium  of  those  sent  forth  from  under  its 
care,  "epistles  to  be  known  and  read,"  there  was  a  grad- 
ual influx  from  the  surrounding  States.  Up  to  this  time, 
and  for  some  years  afterwards,  we  issued  no  circulars  and 
published  no  catalogues,  simply  advertising  the  time  for 
the  opening  and  closing  of  the  school  in  the  New  York 
and  Western  Christian  Advocates.  When  it  became  gen- 
erally known  that  a  Protestant  school  was  located  in  Shel- 
byville,  it  shared  much  of  the  patronage  formerly  be- 
stowed upon  the  Catholic  schools  of  Kentucky,  among 
which  Nazareth,  situated  near  Bardstown,  was  the  most 
conspicuous,  and  deservedly  the  most  highly  appreciated. 

Ours  was  the  first  Protestant  female  academy  founded 
in  the  Mississippi  Valley,  except  that  of  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Fall,  situated  in  Nashville,  which  antedates  it  a  few  years. 
Mr.  Fall  afterwards  removed  to  Kentucky,  and  located 
near  Frankfort,  in  one  of  the  most  enchanting  places  I 
ever  saw,  reminding  one  of  the  Happy  Valley  of  Rasselas. 
Mr.  Fall  was  eminently  fitted  for  his  lofty  calling,  not 
only  as  an  educated  man,  but  by  his  aptness  for  teaching 
and  power  of  communicating  knowledge.  The  many 
accomplished  and  well-educated  young  ladies  from  this 
institution  prove  his  faithful  diligence  and  consequent 
success  as  a  teacher. 

For  years  we  had  semi-annual  examinations  and  two 
vacations, — one  in  February,  the  other  in  August.  This 
was  the  custom  in  Kentucky,  and  we  adopted  it  without 
reflecting  upon  its  inconvenience.  Every  vacation  we 
found  it  necessary  to  improve  and  extend  our  buildings; 
for  each  succeeding  term  the  number  of  boarders  was 
increased.  We  tried  at  first  to  limit  our  school,  but  were 
unsuccessful,  there  being  generally  no  limit  except  want 
of  room.  I  would  greatly  have  preferred  no  externs,  but 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  357 

that  could  not  be,  as  we  were  under  obligations  to  the 
town  and  vicinity.  Much  care  was  exercised  in  regulat- 
ing our  terms  so  as  to  leave  an  open  door  for  those  in 
moderate  circumstances;  and  we  endeavored  always  to 
promote  a  prudent  economy  in  our  arrangements,  while 
we  left  no  means  untried  and  spared  no  expense  to  pro- 
mote the  highest  interests  of  education.  Our  ambition 
was  not  to  accumulate  wealth,  though  we  wished  remu- 
neration, but  to  render  the  school  a  blessing  to  the  rising 
generation, — and  certainly  we  have  not  been  altogether 
disappointed. 

Teaching  should  be  considered  as  a  profession,  and 
the  loftiest  calling  except  that  of  preaching  the  Gospel. 
To  communicate  moral  and  religious  truth  is  the  very 
noblest  employment  of  an  intelligent  being.  Teachers, 
as  well  as  preachers,  should  never  sigh  for  that  ease  which 
some  think  so  "friendly  to  life's  decline." 

During  the  first  ten  or  fifteen  years  of  my  teaching  in 
Shelbyville  girls  cared  much  less  for  personal  adornment, 
and  studied  with  a  more  hearty  good-will,  than  at  any 
time  since;  whilst  I  took  the  greatest  pains  possible  to 
cultivate  as  much  taste  for  dress  as  was  compatible  with 
the  highest  intellectual  improvement.  I  remember  but 
few  girls  during  the  period  referred  to  that  gave  me  much 
trouble  on  this  score.  Those  with  the  most  limited  ward- 
robes were  the  best  students,  as  well  as  the  neatest  in 
dress.  A  well-cultivated  mind  scorns  tawdry  finery,  and 
teaches  us  the  refining  truth  that  cleanliness  is  next  to 
godliness. 

Much  annoyance  was  felt  the  first  few  years  by  invita- 
tions through  the  medium  of  the  post-office  to  parties 
and  balls — a  custom  prevalent  in  all  the  little  towns  of 
Kentucky,  but  fatal  to  good  scholarship,  making  fashion- 


358  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

able  young  ladies  of  children  from  the  ages  of  ten  to 
fifteen.  They  were,  in  fact,  the  society  of  the  place; 
married  women,  no  matter  how  young,  were  never  invited 
to  places  of  amusement,  and  a  girl  of  eighteen  or  twenty 
was  quite  passee.  I  tried  to  change  the  custom  as  far  as 
my  school  was  concerned,  by  returning  the  billets  un- 
opened; this  failing  of  the  desired  effect,  I  sent  for  the 
managers  and  expressed  in  plain  terms  my  wishes  and 
intentions,  requesting  them,  at  the  same  time,  not  to 
make  another  attempt  for  it  would  always  prove  useless. 
My  kind  but  positive  manner  had  the  desired  effect;  and 
I  would  take  this  opportunity  to  say,  for  the  benefit 
of  those  who  preside  over  female  institutions,  where 
there  are  also  male  schools  and  colleges,  that  a  candid, 
open  course  pursued  towards  both  boys  and  girls  will 
generally  break  up  any  clandestine  communications. 
This  will  cultivate  a  high  moral  sense  of  personal  respon- 
sibility, and,  under  strict  surveillance,  give  a  security  not 
obtained  by  any  other  means.  Let  there  be  no  mystery 
and  as  little  suspicion  as  possible. 

Our  school  and  family  were  proverbial  for  health;  no 
bad  colds  were  taken  from  sitting  up  in  rooms  insuffi- 
ciently warmed  and  dawdling  about  half  dressed.  Some 
persons  have  expressed  their  surprise  that  the  girls  pre- 
ferred to  study  together  in  the  school-room,  and  were 
more  successful  in  their  recitations.  Two  good  reasons 
may  be  assigned  for  this.  One,  that  the  teacher  is  ever 
at  the  desk,  ready  to  solve  any  knotty  question  and  aid 
the  timid  inquirer;  the  other,  it  prevents  interruption 
from  the  idle,  noisy,  and  trifling. 

Our  family  habits  were  regulated  according  to  the 
strictest  notions  of  Joshua's  resolution,  "As  for  me  and 
my  house  .we  will  serve  the  Lord."  No  one  could  be 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  359 

absent  from  family  prayers  without  a  good  excuse.  So 
well  practiced  was  Mr.  Tevis's  eye  that  a  glance  around 
the  chapel  enabled  him  to  detect  the  absence  of  a  single 
girl.  His  devotional  spirit  rendered  his  manner  so 
impressive  as  to  prevent  any  tendency  to  levity  during 
family  worship;  and,  indeed,  it  mattered  not  how  full 
of  fun  and  frolic  the  girls  might  be,  his  appearance  pro- 
duced a  serious  and  respectful  quietness  among  them, 
for  all  loved  and  honored  him.  In  his  religious  char- 
acter, an  ardent  and  steady  zeal  for  the  promotion  of  the 
good  of  the  Church  predominated,  combined  with  an 
unswerving  faith  in  those  evangelical  doctrines  which 
gave  special  unction  and  energy  to  his  conversation,  to 
his  prayers  and  to  his  discourses. 

Mr.  Tevis  was  as  much  a  preacher  of  righteousness  at 
home  as  abroad,  and  we  had  the  blessed  privilege  of 
knowing  that  impressions  were  made  from  time  to  time 
upon  the  hearts  of  our  pupils,  which  wrought  a  happy 
change  in  temper  and  character.  Many  a  careless  one, 
who  came  into  our  family  thoughtless  and  indifferent  as 
to  her  soul's  welfare,  left  either  an  humble  penitent  or  a 
true  convert  to  Christianity.  Some  have  gone  forth  as 
missionaries  of  the  Cross  among  their  own  people,  and 
to  bless  the  world  by  their  pious  example.  Sunday- 
schools  have  been  established  in  the  far  South ;  Churches 
founded  in  desolate  places  have  brought  many  a  truant 
heart  to  God,  and  scores  have  been  led  to  worship  their 
Creator,  who  had  previously  burned  incense  only  upon 
the  altar  of  mammon. 

I  may,  without  boasting,  glory  in  the  fact  that  the 
institution  has  always  been  self-sustaining,  never  having 
had  any  endowment  nor  appropriation  from  the  Meth- 
odist Church  nor  any  other  source  except  the  well-earned 


360  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

tuition  fees.  It  is  but  justice  to  add,  however,  that  we 
have  lived  in  an  enlightened  community,  and  among  a 
people  who  gladly  embraced  the  opportunity  of  sustaining 
such  a  school  by  a  hearty  and  liberal  patronage. 

During  the  Conference  in  1828,  held  again  in  Shelby- 
ville,  I  became  acquainted  with  several  of  our  senior 
bishops — M'Kendree,  Roberts,  and  Soule.  The  first  had 
always  been  a  warm  personal  friend  of  my  husband,  and 
highly  appreciating  his  services  as  an  itinerant,  did  not 
seem  to  approve  his  remaining  permanently  stationed  as 
the  superintendent  of  an  Academy.  He  expressed  his 
fears  in  his  own  peculiar,  laconic  manner,  "Act  in  haste 
and  repent  at  leisure — and  take  care  of  the  world, 
brother;"  but  he  afterwards  most  heartily  coincided  with 
Mr.  Tevis  and  the  Conference,  that  it  was  right  and  best 
for  him  and  the  Church — regarding  the  school  as  a  nur- 
sery to  the  Church. 

Bishop  M'Kendree's  feeble  and  declining  health  left 
Bishop  Roberts  to  preside,  and  Bishop  Soule  was  merely 
in  attendance.  They  all  came  to  tea.  with  us  one  evening, 
and  I  was  anxious  to  make  a  good  impression  upon  these 
high  dignitaries  of  the  Church,  especially  upon  Bishop 
M'Kendree,  the  only  bachelor  among  them.  He,  like 
Bishop  Asbury,  had  never  been  willing  to  acknowledge 
that  a  good  wife  was  a  good  thing,  and  felt,  that  though 
it  was  right  for  some  to  marry,  it  was  better  for  others  to 
remain  in  single  blessedness. 

I  determined  to  bring  to  bear  all  my  tact  in  good 
housekeeping — which,  by  the  by,  was  very  little — in 
honor  of  my  distinguished  guests,  and  spent  so  much 
time  in  the  supervision  of  my  supper-table,  displaying  to 
the  best  advantage  a  small  service  of  china,  cut-glass,  and 
silver  that  I  lost  the  opportunity  of  profiting  by  the 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  361 

rich  experience  and  heavenly  conversation  of  these  holy 
men  of  God.  Imagine  my  mortification  when,  seated  at 
the  head  of  the  table,  heated  by  over-exertion,  my  face 
glowing  like  a  peony,  to  hear  Bishop  M'Kendree  say,  as 
he  declined  every  offered  delicacy,  and  devoted  himself 
to  a  corn-cake  with  a  glass  of  milk  and  water,  privately 
prepared  at  his  own  request,  "But  one  thing  is  needful, 
sister."  I  thought  I  could  see  a  lurking  smile  in  his  mild 
reproving  eye,  and  the  lesson  was  not  lost. 

Notwithstanding  this  contretemps  I  think  the  Bishop 
afterwards  knew  me  well  enough  to  believe  that  I  fully 
sustained  the  pledge  made  at  the  time  of  my  marriage — 
"never  by  word  or  deed  to  throw  any  impediment  in  my 
husband's  way  as  a  preacher  of  the  Gospel;"  and  that  I 
always  felt  in  my  heart  what  I  professed  at  the  begin- 
ning, "that  I  would  rather  be  the  wife  of  a  faithful 
itinerant  preacher  than  to  wear  a  jeweled  crown  and  be 
dressed  in  purple  and  gold."  I  believed  in  the  promise 
added  4o  the  blessed  admonition,  "Seek  first  the  king- 
dom of  heaven." 

Though  I  saw  Bishop  M'Kendree  often  afterwards — 
for  he  never  came  to  Shelbyville  without  visiting  us, — I 
heard  him  preach  but  twice,  once  at  a  camp-meeting  with 
"a  tented  army  of  pilgrims  to  eternity"  before  him. 
His  text  was,  "Ephraim  is  joined  to  his  idols,  let  him 
alone."  He  first  portrayed  the  repeated  effort  made  by 
the  Spirit  of  God  to  call  the  sinner  to  repentance;  and  in 
accents  softened  by  the  emotions  of  his  own  heart, 
uttered  the  Scripture  admonition,  "Turn  ye,  turn  ye, 
why  will  ye  die!"  until  he  excited  the  deepest  interest  in 
his  hearers,  touching  a  chord  that  vibrated  through  every 
heart.  Then  he  drew  a  life-like  picture  of  the  obstinate, 
worldly-minded  man  who,  steadily  refusing  all  calls  to 


362  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

repentance,  rejects  the  allurements  of  heaven,  the  flat- 
teries of  the  world  and  its  deceitful  riches  rendering  his 
frozen  heart  impervious  to  the  sunshine  that  floods  the 
earth  and  skies  so  graciously.  His  doom  is  sealed,  his 
heart  seared.  The  earth  pours  its  riches  in  abundance, 
the  rain  and  the  dew  nurture  his  vineyards  and  crown  the 
year  with  fatness;  plenty  reigns  in  his  house,  and  his 
barns  are  bursting  forth  with  the  golden  harvest;  but 
then  comes  the  awful  voice  in  the  stillness  of  the  mid- 
night hour,  "Thou  fool,  this  night  thy  soul  shall  be 
required  of  thee. "  The  effect  upon  the  audience  was 
electrical,  and  many  dated  their  return  to  the  shepherd 
and  bishop  of  their  souls  from  that  hour.  His  imagery 
was  beautiful,  his  illustrations  perfect. 

Once  again,  in  the  old  "White  Church"  of  blessed 
memory,  he  was  illustrating  the  gradual  influx  of  divine 
light  into  the  soul.  "See,"  said  he,  " that  window  with 
its  half-closed  shutters,  admitting  but  few  rays  of  light. 
Open  it  a  little  more,  and  you  will  see  objects  more 
distinctly;  a  little  more  still,  and  you  will  not  fail  to  see 
how  indecently  the  men  treat  the  floor."  Every  tobacco 
chewer  instantly  cast  his  eyes  in  that  direction ;  they  felt 
the  reproof,  and  there  was  no  more  spitting  -during  that 
sermon.  This  apparent  step  from  the  sublime  to  the 
ridiculous  was  characteristic  of  the  Bishop. 

His  success  as  a  preacher  was  not  owing  to  grace  of 
manner,  nor  richness  of  voice,  nor  fullness  of  matter; 
but  that  indescribable  unction  obtained  by  prayer,  pro- 
found meditation  upon  divine  truths,  and  a  deep  convic- 
tion of  the  overwhelming  importance  of  eternal  things, — 
that  anointing  of  the  Holy  Spirit  which  no  man  can 
counterfeit,  and  no  audience  mistake.  Inspired  with  the 
utmost  desire  for  the  salvation  of  souls,  his  thoughts 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  263 

kindled  into  living  flames,  and  his  words  fell  upon  the 
ears  of  his  hearers  with  irresistible  power.  His  plain, 
unaffected  manners,  simplicity  of  character,  singleness  of 
purpose,  and  the  purity  of  his  life  made  a  profound  im- 
pression upon  every  community  in  which  he  preached. 
His  religion  had  no  mixture  of  coldness,  no  exclusive- 
ness,  no  bigotry.  "The  Holy  Truth  walked  ever  by  his 
side."  Independence  of  thought  and  action  towards  men 
was  mingled  with  the  deepest  humility  and  reverence  to- 
wards God.  The  frailties  of  others  were  regarded  with 
gentleness  and  pity,  but  he  was  a  rigid  disciplinarian  to- 
wards himself;  and  though  of  a  feeble  constitution, 
fasted  much,  often  for  a  whole  day  at  a  time.  He  be- 
lieved in  St.  Paul's  admonition — "keep  the  body  under." 
Upon  one  occasion,  failing  to  preach  in  a  manner  satis- 
factory to  himself,  he  determined  to  eat  no  meat  during 
one  weary  round  of  his  parochial  district,  though  this 
kind  of  nourishment  was  best  suited  to  his  state  of  health. 

He  possessed  much  of  that  dry  wit  that  sometimes 
disturbs  the  quiet  equanimity  of  the  most  serious.  Once 
overtaken  in  a  lonely  ride  by  an  inquisitive  countryman, 
after  the  usual  interchange  of  wayside  courtesies,  a 
monotonous  silence  ensued,  interrupted  by  the  trot,  trot, 
jogtrot  of  the  travelers'  horses.  At  last, 

"Where  mout  yer  be  goin',  mister?"  to  the  Bishop. 

"About  and  about,"  was  the  laconic  reply. 

Another  grave  pause  of  painful  intensity,  and 

"Conclude  to  get  home  to-night?" 

"No." 

Another  mile  through  the  'mud,  and  our  "quidnunc," 
with  inflexible  perseverance,  tried  him  again. 

"Well,  stranger,  where  do  you  live?" 

"About  and  about,"  said  the  Bishop. 


364  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

The  man's  heart  failed  him,  and  the  mysterious  silence 
continued  until  their  roads  separated,  when  the  baffled 
questioner  whipped  up  his  horse  and  soon  lost  sight  of 
his  companion. 

When  I  recall  the  image  of  this  holy  apostle,  the  light 
of  heaven  seems  to  shine  around  me.  He  was  so  pure 
and  noble,  that  when  in  conducting  family  prayers  he 
raised  his  eyes  full  of  devotion  from  the  sacred  volume, 
and  lifted  his  hands,  saying,  "Let  us  pray,"  I  felt  that 
the  gates  of  heaven  were  thrown  wide  open,  and  that  he 
had  access  to  a  throne  of  grace  through  a  living  faith  in 
the  Redeemer,  and  that  we  were  all  in  the  exalted  pres- 
ence of  the  angels  of  mercy. 

Bishop  Roberts  frequently  tarried  with  us  as  he  passed 
to  and  fro.  Many  happy  reminiscences  of  a  life-long 
itinerancy  are  connected  with  his  visits.  His  genial, 
cheerful  conversation  always  amused  and  interested  his 
hearers.  As  a  pioneer  preacher,  he  was  well  acquainted 
with  the  history  of  the  Methodist  Church,  from  the  time 
it  was  but  a  handful  in  the  wilderness — feeble,  struggling 
through  poverty  and  opposition,  yet  led  onward  by  the 
pillar  of  fire  by  night,  and  shielded  by  the  friendly  cloud 
from  the  blaze  of  persecution  by  day.  He  had  lived  to 
see  her  come  up  through  tribulation,  "looking  forth  as 
the  morning,  fair  as  the  moon,  clear  as  the  sun,  and  ter- 
rible as  an  army  with  banners,"  a  blessing  to  multiplied 
thousands.  He  went  forth  among  the  aborgines.  on  the 
outskirts  of  civilization,  and  preached  the  unsearchable 
riches  of  Christ  to  those  dark  sons  of  the  forest,  perish- 
ing for  the  bread  of  life.  I  have  often  heard  him  say 
that  the  poor  heathen  when  converted  were  Christians  of 
the  noblest  stamp;  showing  that  the  salvation  offered  by 
the  Gospel  is  not  the  prize  of  lofty  intellect,  but  of  a 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  365 

penitent  soul  and  a  lowly  mind.  The  truth,  as  it  is  in 
Jesus,  is  in  one  view  so  profound,  that  the  highest  arch- 
angel's intellect  may  be  lost  in  the  contemplation  of  its 
mysterious  depths,'  in  another,  so  simple  that  the  lisping 
babe  at  its  mother's  knee  may  learn  its  meaning. 

The  heart  of  Bishop  Roberts  was  the  seat  of  all  those 
emotions  that  sweeten  human  life,  adorn  our  nature,  and 
diffuse  a  nameless  charm  over  existence.  I  was  not  per- 
sonally acquainted  with  his  excellent  wife,  but  she  was  said 
to  be  in  every  way  suitable  as  a  companion  for  this  holy 
man.  They  had  no  children ;  yet  the  providence  of  God 
gave  them  seventeen  or  eighteen  nephews  and  nieces  to 
bring  up  in  the  fear  and  admonition  of  the  Lord.  Both 
the  Bishop  and  his  wife  manifested  the  exquisite  simplic- 
ity of  the  essential  facts  and  principles  of  our  holy  relig- 
ion. They  were  co-laborers  in  the  Lord's  vineyard, 
working  for  the  salvation  of  souls,  "till  the  busy  wheels 
of  life  stood  still."  Sister  Roberts  outlived  the  Bishop 
several  years,  an  honored  resident  of  Greencastle,  Indi- 
ana, where  she  was  tenderly  loved  and  watched  over  by 
many  devoted  friends.  Ready  and  willing  hands  were 
always  at  her  service,  but  she  would  be  chargeable  to  no 
one  so  long  as  her  hands  and  feet  could  perform  their 
accustomed  offices.  Her  life  was  a  simple,  consecrated 
one ;  she  served  God  faithfully  all  her  days,  and  has  gone 
to  that  home  where  day  and  night  divide  his  work 
no  more. 

Among  the  sacred  pictures  treasured  in  the  gallery  of 
my  heart,  I  would  fain  select  another,  Bishop  Soule — a 
tall,  grave-looking  man  of  noble  presence,  with  a  steady, 
determined  sort  of  face,  resembling  a  granite  pillar  of 
magnificent  proportions.  The  Bishop  had  a  "touch-me- 
not"  sort  of  stateliness  of  manner,  yet  he  was  neither 

24 


366  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

stiff  nor  freezing;  and  though  as  uncompromising  with 
the  world  as  St.  Paul  himself,  he  had  a  strong  perception 
of  the  beautiful,  both  in  nature  and  in  art,  which  enriched 
his  highly  cultivated  mind  with  the  brightest  jewels  of 
intellect.  He  might  have  been  a  harsh  man  had  he  not 
been  a  Christian.  Emanations  from  the  heart  always 
soften  the  asperities  of  the  natural  character.  He  was 
kind,  but  never  familiar;  polite  and  social,  but  guarded 
well  the  dignity  of  his  episcopal  office.  Christianity, 
instead  of  sinking  the  distinctions  of  society,  elevates  and 
guards  them,  and  employs  the  most  sublime  truths  to 
enforce  the  minutest  offices  of  social  life.  A  rude,  un- 
civil man,  of  an  unsympathizing  nature,  is  not  one  in 
whom  holy  emotions  are  likely  to  dwell;  and  yet  there 
may  rest,  in  the  humblest  laborer's  heart,  a  spirit  that 
dignifies  the  coarsest  toil,  and  renders  drudgery  divine. 

Bishop  Soule  was  sometimes  abrupt  in  his  candid, 
laconic  speech,  but  never  yielded  to  anger,  and  never 
condescended  to  be  irritable.  He  did  not  win  friends  as 
rapidly  as  Bishop  Roberts  or  Bishop  M'Kendree,  yet 
those  who  knew  him  well,  loved  and  admired  him  above 
all  others. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  367 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

I  AM  well  aware  that  the  minute  details  of  a  school- 
room are  apt  to  be  tiresome,  yet  a  teacher  who  has 
spent  a  life-time  in  the  vocation  need  not  look  abroad 
for  interesting  matter.  Before  the  channel  of  education 
became  deep  and  broad  as  it  is  now,  we  had  much  more 
raw  material  to  work  upon  from  the  far  distant  West  and 
South.  Some  queer  specimens  of  girls,  who  had  "come 
up"  pretty  much  of  themselves,  and  who  had,  from  child- 
hood's happy  hours,  reveled  in  idleness  and  ignorance, 
were  brought  to  us.  Dull,  mentally  and  spiritually, 
neither  sheen  of  silks  nor  sparkle  of  jewels,  piled  upon 
and  scattered  over  them  by  wealthy  papas  and  mammas, 
could  render  them  other  than  rough  and  ungainly— igno- 
rant of  the  very  first  principles  of  literature.  Upon  these 
I  was  expected  to  do  a  variety  of  polishing,  removing, 
as  with  a  magic  wand,  the  accumulated  rust  of  fifteen  or 
sixteen  years;  giving  a  "finishing  touch,"  as  they  called 
it,  in  three  or  five  months. 

Just  such  a  Kentucky  girl  was  introduced  to  me 
one  bright  September  morning  by  her  mother.  "Here, 
ma'rm,  is  my  daughter;  I  calculate  to  send  her  not  more 
than  three  months,  and  I  want  you  to  push  her  just  as  fast 
as  you  can,  because  you  see  she  are  sixteen  year  old  now. 
She  talks  grammar  proper  enough — knows  all  about 
geography,  and  is  been  a  readin',  and  a  writin',  and 
spellin',  dear  knows  how  long ;  so  she  need  n't  waste  no 
time  in  the  likes  o'  that.  If  she  do  n't  know  enough  of 


368  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

'em  she  can  larn  'em  at  home,  and  she  wants  to  go  in  the 
tip-top  class  and  not  be  a  foolin'  away  her  time." 

"I  examine  my  pupils,  madam,  when  they  enter 
school,  and  place  them  just  where,  in  my  judgment, 
they  will  improve  the  most ;  we  never  class  a  girl  accord- 
ing to  her  age,  nor  the  number  of  books  she  has  gone 
through,  but  in  keeping  with  the  real  knowledge  she 
possesses." 

"That'll  do  when  they've  a  good  while  to  come 
to  school,  but  my  daughter  's  old  enough  to  be  keepin' 
company  now,  and  I  do  n't  want  her  to  be  a  studyin'  all 
her  life,  /got  along  mighty  well  without  any  education." 

"What  do  you  propose  to  have  her  learn,  madam? 
Arithmetic." 

She  interrupted  me  quickly,  "No,  no,  she  ciphers 
well  enough,  and,  if  she  do  n't,  her  brother  can  larn  her 
that;  she  wants  to  know  philosophy,  chemistry,  and 
astronomy,  and  the  likes  o'  that.  She  might  take  a 
spell  in  writin'  compositions  and  larnin'  geometry  and 
what  you  call  algebray — and  I  want  her  to  keep  on  a 
studyin'  an'  singin,'  and  the  rest  o'  the  time  she  can  take 
up  with  studyin'  the  piany.  I  don't  Avant  her  to  study 
no  French,  nor  none  of  the  other  dead  languages; 
she  talks  fast  enough  without  any  o'  that  outlandish 
gibberish." 

You  may  be  sure  I  dreaded  the  daughter  after  these 
special  directions  from  the  mother.  I  do  not  think  she 
stayed  six  weeks  with  us. 

Engaged  in  a  round  of  occupations  that  admitted  of 
no  leisure  hours,  with  a  heart  fully  devoted  to  my  duties, 
weeks  and  months  sped  rapidly  by ;  and  though  time  did 
occasionally  cast  a  shadow  from  his  wings  when  in  my 
busy  school-room,  all  was  forgotten  beyond  its  limits. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  369 

That  was  my  world,  there  I  gave  instruction,  and  thence  I 
drew  lessons  of  experience  which  rendered  me,  from  year 
to  year,  a  more  efficient  teacher.  There  I  learned  to 
moralize,  as  the  painful  conviction  forced  itself  upon  me, 
thus:  "How  strange  it  is,  and  not  more  strange  than 
true,  that  so  few  parents  in  this  Christian  land,  where  the 
Gospel  light  is  shining  with  noon-day  splendor,  lighting 
up  every  niche  and  corner  of  their  habitations,  should 
be  so  slow  to  enforce  the  Bible  admonition  in  reference 
to  the  early  instructions  of  children  by  precept  and  exam- 
ple."  In  some  families  children  are  regarded  as  stum- 
bling-blocks, in  the  way  of  thrifty  mothers — and,  in  the 
habitations  of  the  gay,  the  wealthy,  and  the  fashionable, 
as  soulless  pets.  I  have  heard  the  argument  strictly 
maintained  among  sensible  people,  "Oh!  do  not  trouble 
them  with  this  everlasting  teaching,  they  '11  have  enough 
of  it  when  they  go  to  school;  let  them  enjoy  life  while 
they  are  young!"  I  have  known  parents,  who  studiously 
avoided  throwing- any  impediment  in  the  way  of  the  indul- 
gence of  all  sorts  of  selfishness  for  fear  of  seeing  a  frown 
upon  the  brow  of  their  children,  leaving  their  minds 
almost  a  perfect  blank,  so  far  as  duty  was  concerned ;  or 
worse,  filled  with  false  impressions  and  precocious  wick- 
edness. Children  are  a  study  for  the  most  acute  mind. 
In  them  we  find  the  natural  movements  of  the  soul — 
intense  with  new  life  and  busy  after  truth.  They  are  all 
sensation,  and  their  wakeful  senses  are  ever  drinking  in 
from  the  common  sun  and  air;  every  sound  is  taken  note 
of  by  the  ear;  every  floating  shadow  and  passing  form 
comes  and  touches  the  sleeping  eye;  little  circumstances 
in  the  material  world  about  them  must  be  the  instructors 
and  formers  of  their  characters  for  life ;  hence  the  necessity 
for  that  constant  watching  and  teaching  the  Bible  speaks 


370  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

of — making  them  know  and  desire  what  is  right,  rather 
than  what  is  agreeable;  teaching  them  so  as  not  to  lose 
the  distinction  between  principle  and  selfish  gratification. 
All  selfishness  hardens  the  heart;  but  there  is  no  kind 
which  hardens  it  so  effectually  as  that  weak  indulgence 
which  permits  a  child  to  have  its  own  way,  rather 
than  take  the  trouble  to  correct,  restrain,  and  punish,  if 
need  be. 

Many  came  into  our  family  from  year  to  year  who 
required  to  be  taught  the  simplest  rudiments  of  religious 
knowledge,  for  they  were  as  destitute  of  any  right  views 
of  God,  and  of  his  claims  on  their  hearts,  as  if  they  had 
been  born  in  the  jungles  of  India,  or  amid  the  deserts 
of  Africa.  It  was  our  incessant  study,  and  particularly 
that  of  my  husband,  to  present  the  Scriptures  in  such 
a  manner  as  to  attract  their  attention  and,  without  fa- 
tiguing, interest  their  minds.  All  Mr.  Tevis's  teaching 
was  directed  to  this  one  great  purpose.  History  and 
science,  all  the  daily  changes  and  trials  of  life,  were 
rendered  subservient;  and,  above  all  and  over  all,  was 
continually  recognized  the  hand  of  God,  their  Creator, 
whose  eye  was  ever  upon  them,  observing  their  conduct, 
and  desirous,  above  all  things,  that  his  erring  children 
should  return  to  him  and  receive  the  sweet  assurance 
of  his  forgiveness  through  Jesus  Christ.  The  law  of  God 
was  made  the  rule  of  daily  life;  his  Word  the  standard 
by  which  every  act,  motive,  and  principle  was  judged ; 
and  his  favor  and  approbation  the  highest  good.  When 
the  mind  has  no  employment,  the  affections  are  apt  to 
be  dormant;  when  the  head  is  vacant  the  heart  is  often 
cold.  Many,  when  first  brought  under  the  restraints  of 
a  school,  regard  it  as  decided  tyranny  to  require  their 
regular  attendance  at  Church  and  Sunday-school;  and 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  371 

often  an  imaginary  headache,  gotten  up  for  the  occasion, 
has  kept  a  girl  at  home,  when  her  bonnet,  cloak,  or 
some  other  trifling  accompaniment  was  not  in  keeping 
with  her  wishes.  They  had  been  accustomed  to  do  what 
seemed  good  in  their  own  eyes.  Yet,  under  all  these 
disadvantages,  combined  with  the  early  neglect  of  literary 
culture,  I  found  s'cores  of  quick  and  ready  scholars,  with 
retentive  memories,  and  minds  ready  for  the  acquisition 
of  religious  as  well  as  literary  knowledge. 

A  teacher  should  never  make  a  requisition  that  can 
not  be  enforced.  To  threaten  a  punishment,  and  then 
contrive  in  some  indirect  way  to  abate  its  vigor,  destroys 
its  good  effect.  The  most  noble  character  may  be 
marred  by  a  too  yielding  habit  in  matters  of  conscience; 
a  want  of  moral  courage  is  injurious,  not  only  to  our- 
selves, but  to  all  under  our  authority.  Induct  into  the 
mind  the  solemn  fact  that  martyrdom  in  the  cause 
of  truth  and  uprightness  deserves  our  envy  rather  than 
our  pity. 


372  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

OUR  second  son,  with  his  bright,  wide-open  eyes,  by 
the  time  he  had  attained  the  wise  age  of  four  years, 
became  so  perfectly  acquainted  with  the  topography  of 
his  home  and  its  immediate  surroundings  that  there  was 
no  terra  incognita,  no  mystery  in  or  about  the  establish- 
ment, that  he  had  not  solved — save  one;  and  that  was  a 
cistern  without  a  pump,  and  with  only  a  trap-door  through 
which  the  water  might  be  drawn  up.  It  was  near  the 
laundry,  and  on  forbidden  ground  to  children.  He  had, 
time  and  again,  watched  the  old  washerwoman  drawing 
water  from  it,  but  was  never  near  enough  to  examine  it. 
His  nurse  scarcely  ever  lost  sight  of  him  long  enough  to 
give  him  time  for  exploration;  but  it  so  happened,  one 
day,  that  he  slipped  quietly  away  to  the  forbidden  spot, 
and,  finding  the  old  woman's  back  turned,  stepped  noise- 
lessly along,  and  in  his  haste  to  peep  down  plunged  in 
head-foremost.  A  splash,  and  then  the  fall  of  the  trap- 
door— no  scream,  nor  any  other  noise;  but  the  old  woman 
knew  instinctively  that  the  curious  child  was  in  the  cis- 
tern, which  contained  about  ten  feet  of  water !  She  raised 
a  cry  of  terror  as  she  tore'  off  the  loose  planks  and 
shouted  for  a  ladder.  The  only  one  on  the  place  was  at 
the  stable,  some  distance  off.  A  servant-man  went  for  it. 
Meantime  my  mother  reached  the  cistern,  caught  the 
child's  eye,  which  was  soon  fixed  steadily  upon  that  dear 
familiar  face  with  a  mute  appeal  for  help.  He  had  sunk 
once  and  risen  to  the  surface, — his  blue  woolen  slip  and 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  373 

trowsers  were  strong  and  not  easily  saturated  with  water, 
and  his  upper  garment,  floating,  helped  to  bear  him  up. 

"Keep  your  hands  down,  son;  paddle,  paddle — hands 
under  water — that's  a  brave  boy!  Swim,  swim!  the 
ducks  swim." 

Her  voice  trembled — he  was  sinking. 

"Come,  Joe;  come  quick!     Put  down  the  ladder." 

In  his  trepidation  he  struck  the  child.  Down — down 
he  went;  up  again  instantly,  and  was  caught  by  the 
strong  arm  of  the  man  just  as  he  was  about  to  disappear. 
In  a  minute  more  the  drowning  child  was  in  the  arms  of 
his  grandmother,  but  totally  unconscious. 

To  rub  and  roll  him  in  warm  blankets  was  the  work 
of  a  few  minutes,  and  soon  he  quietly  slept,  with  renewed 
life  and  restored  sensation. 

"Why,  Bob,"  said  his  grandfather,  who  was  watching 
his  returning  consciousness,  "what  did  you  do  in  the 
cistern  ?' 

"O  danfather,  I  thus  fum  like  a  duck,"  was  his  reply. 

A  hearty  laugh  from  the  old  gentleman  was  the  finale 
to  this  disaster. 

From  that  good  hour  we  eschewed  cisterns  without 
pumps. 

About  this  time,  in  the  year  1832,  a  little  orphan  girl 
was  placed  under  my  care;  and  she  came  like  a  gleam 
of  light  across  the  the  shadow  of  memory  to  fill  in  some 
measure  the  void  in  our  hearts  made  by  the  death  of  our 
precious  little  daughter,  though  we  did  not  forget  "our 
buried  one  that  calmly  rested  under  the  daisies ;"  and  I 
often  felt,  even  in  my  happiest  hours,  an  intense  yearning 
for  that  spirit-land  where  she  had  gone  in  all  the  freshness 
of  her  budding  loveliness, — that  happy  place  where  all  is 
bright  and  glorious. 


374  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

This  dear  little  pet  of  the  household  became  to  me  a 
daughter,  and  to  my  children  a  sister.  There  was  some- 
thing about  the  child,  left  so  young  to  the  guardianship 
of  strangers,  that  awakened  sympathy;  and  she  soon  be- 
came not  only  an  object  of  interest,  but  securely  nestled 
in  our  warmest  affections.  Her  name,  too,  was  Mary — a 
name  that  never  failed  to  produce  a  thrill  of  tender  emo- 
tion. Her  face  was  very  -fair,  with  soft,  ruby  lips,  and 
cheeks  warm  with  Summer  flushes;  but  her  blue  eyes 
were  sad  looking — not  a  painful,  but  a  timid,  sadness, 
that  lay  like  a  veil  over  their  brightness.  After  she  be- 
gan to  feel  at  home  among  us  this  vanished,  and  we 
found  her  a  merry -hearted,  gleesome  child,  with  every 
motion  full  of  dancing,  rippling  light.  And  yet  she 
manifested  an  uncommon  degree  of  pertinacity  in  what- 
ever she  desired  to  have  or  do,  her  self-will  being  unusu- 
ally deep-rooted;  but  as  I  had  determined  from  the  first 
to  rear  her  as  if  she  were  my  own  child,  and  had  adopted 
her  from  the  purest  motives  of  affection,  I  corrected,  re- 
proved, and  punished  every  fault.  My  disciplinary  ad- 
monitions, under  God's  blessing,  turned -into  the  proper 
channel  energies  that  formed  a  very  lovely  character. 

I  realized  then  that  the  first  great  lesson  to  be  taught 
children  is  submission  and  obedience,  as  introductory  to 
every  good  in  this  world  and  the  world  to  come.  A 
stern  sense  of  duty  to  my  own  children  made  me  feel 
the  weighty  trust  and  responsibility  in  regard  to  others. 

If  children  be  subjected  to  school  discipline  at  too 
early  an  age,  and  forced  to  the  irksome  task  of'  commit- 
ting to  memory  what  a  childish  mind  can  not  compre- 
hend, they  may  become  thoroughly  disgusted  with  all 
books,  including  even  those  fairy  tales,  adventures,  and 
travels  which  are  as  much  the  proper  food  for  little  folks 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  375 

as  the  higher  works  of  literature  are  for  advanced  schol- 
ars; and  they  may  never  be  awakened  to  the  necessity 
of  fitting  themselves  for  a  life  of  usefulness  and  the  en- 
joyment of  a  cultivated  mind.  If  they  sleep  away  their 
childhood  over  unsuitable  books,  they  will  sleep  away  their 
youth  over  the  same  when  the  proper  time  for  studying 
them  has  come;  and  besides,  having  never  had  the  op- 
portunity nor  the  encouragement  to  exhaust  the  glorious 
fields  of  choice  juvenile  romance,  they  have  still  the 
ungratified  yearnings  of  children,  and  will  be  apt  to 
plunge  indiscriminately  into  the  sea  of  popular  fiction. 

Happily,  there  is  now  a  growing  conviction  that  every 
thing  should  come  in  its  order :  first,  perception ;  then, 
fancy;  next,  memory,  and,  lastly,  reason.  Let  children 
be  children,  not  philosophers,  and  then  they  will  make 
men,  and  not  mere  walking  pedants.  Those  nursery 
tales  and  juvenile  story-books,  so  congenial  to  the  taste 
of  pure  childish  fancy,  ought  not  to  be  rejected  entirely; 
for  even  the  fleeting  images  produced  by  the  jumbling  of 
"Mother  Goose's  Melodies"  will  nourish  the  imagination, 
as  well  as  quicken  the  perception.  The  childish  eye  may 
be  taught  to  glance  from  heaven  to  earth,  and  from  earth 
to  heaven,  as  in  fancy  it  follows  "The  old  woman  sweep- 
ing the  sky,"  "The  cow  jumping  over  the  moon,"  and 
"The  man  into  the  barberry-bush,"  before  the  mind  is 
sufficiently  matured  to  tax  the  memory  much. 

It  is  the  boast  of  our  day  that  the  child  is  familiar 
with  the  results  of  a  life -time  of  philosophical  investiga- 
tion. Every  thing  is  simplified.  Astronomy,  Chemistry, 
Geology,  Mental  and  Moral  Science,  are  all  taught  in 
nice  little  primers.  A  conceit  of  knowledge  is  thus  gen- 
erated, where,  in  fact,  the  outlines  and  elements  are  not 
even  mastered. 


376  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

I  have  had  girls  of  scarce  sixteen  Summers  enter  my 
school,  having  gone  through  the  whole  circle  of  the  sci- 
ences, and  exhausted  every  branch  of  literature,  ready  to 
receive  the  last  polish  of  society,  and  yet  they  could  not 
read  intelligibly,  write  a  legible  hand,  nor  compose  a 
page  grammatically — some  could  not  even  spell  the  com- 
monest words  in  our  language  —  did  not  know  the  four 
points  of  the  compass,  nor  could  they  name  the  capitals 
of  the  States;  were  deficient  in  the  elementary  principles 
of  mathematics,  though  they  had  gone  through  Algebra 
and  Geometry.  The  excuse  for  entire  deficiency  in 
Arithmetic  has  generally  been,  "Oh,  I  have  not  had 
time;  my  brothers  will  teach  me  to  cipher  when  I  go 
home."  And  yet  these  same  girls  had,  for  years  per- 
haps, been  confined  in  school  from  six  to  eight  hours  a 
day;  at  night  carrying  home  a  number  of  scientific  works 
of  which  they  scarce  knew  the  author's  name,  —  thus 
spending  what  should  have  been  the  merriest,  happiest, 
and  most  profitable  part  of  their  lives  in  attempting  im- 
possibilities, and  acquiring  a  distaste  for  learning, 

The  minds  of  children  should  not  be  left  unimproved. 
Much  can  and  must  be  taught  them  before  they  enter 
the  school-room.  The  judicious  system  pursued  by  the 
ancient  Persians  showed  that  they  well  understood  the 
intimate  connection  between  _  training  and  character, 
though  they  were  heathens,  and  unacquainted  with  the 
injunctions  of  Divine  Revelation  upon  that  subject. 
They  inculcated  moral  principle  almost  from  the  cradle, 
and  enforced  gymnastic  exercises  for  the  purpose  of 
strengthening  the  body  and  preparing  it  as  a  suitable 
habitation  for  an  enlarged  and  enlightened  mind.  They 
had  no  books,  but  the  open  volume  of  Nature  was  before 
them ;  and  practically  they  were,  according  to  Xenophon, 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  377 

models  of  virtue  and  morality,  and  physically  superior  to 
alj  the  surrounding  nations  until,  ruined  by  the  effeminate 
luxury  of  the  Medians. 

The  Athenians  commenced  a  verbal  course  of  teaching 
their  own  language  as  soon  as  reason  dawned;  and  thus 
the  whole  population  of  Athens,  from  the  meanest  beggar 
to  the  most  elevated  statesman,  pronounced  and  spoke 
their  beautiful  vernacular  with  such  correctness  that  even 
a  market-woman  could  distinguish  a  foreigner  from  a 
citizen  of  Athens  by  his  shibboleth,  or  the  peculiar  pro- 
nunciation of  his  vowels. 

How  often  do  we  find  parents  sending  their  children 
to  indifferent  teachers,  where  they  con  over  a  few  lessons 
in  any  fashion  they  may  choose,  provided  they  do  not 
disturb  the  high  dignitary  who  calls  them  together  daily 
in  a  heterogeneous  mass,  to  spend  hour  after  hour  ac- 
quiring idle  habits  and  perverting  their  best  faculties. 
This  is  done  in  some  instances  to  save  the  trouble  of 
parental  instruction,  and  in  others  to  save  expense,  which 
must  be  incurred  in  the  end  by  keeping  them  longer  at 
school.  It  is  not  an  uncommon  thing  to  find  children 
thus  acquiring  ruinous  intellectual  habits,  and  so  utterly 
gone  astray  in  the  simplest  elementary  principles,  that  it 
would  take  a  life-time  to  undo  these  perversions ;  and  yet 
the  parents  are  astonished  that  their  children  do  not 
come  forth  from  a  "finishing-school"  models  of  elegance, 
erudition,  and  accomplishment. 

Again,  because  the  education  of  females  was  formerly 
so  totally  neglected,  many  are  anxious,  under  the  new 
regime,  to  have  them  learn  every  thing  without  regard  to 
the  sphere  they  are  to  occupy  in  life.  They  would  crowd 
into  a  few  years  as  much  learning  as  filled  the  brain  of 
Socrates  or  Plato,  and  would  have  them  so  excellent  in  a 


378  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

thousand  unnecessary  things,  as  to  lead  to  an  entire  loss 
of  every  thing  useful  and  practical. 

Another  evil,  not  less  than  those  alluded  to,  is  the 
frensy  for  external  accomplishments.  Often  our  best  lit- 
erary institutions  are  rejected  and  the  most  fashionable 
schools  chosen,  where  girls  may  be  taught  to  carry  off 
the  prize  for  music  or  dancing,  and  to  enter  and  leave  a 
drawing-room  gracefully,  as  if  life  were  to  consist  of  one 
universal  holiday.  And,  oh,  painful  to  tell,  many  Chris- 
tian parents  think  they  can  not  do  justice  to  their  daugh- 
ters unless  they  give  them  an  opportunity  of  acquiring  that 
gracefulness  of  carriage  from  a  dancing-master,  which  the 
pious  mother  or  the  religious  teacher  is  not  thought 
capable  of  imparting.  Would  any  rational  Christian 
suppose  that  dancing,  or  learning  to  shuffle  the  feet  a  la 
mode,  is  requisite  for  an  introduction  into  heaven — the 
final  destiny  hoped  for  our  daughters? 

To  so  great  an  extent  was  this  infatuation  carried  a 
few  years  ago  in  one  of  our  largest  Western  cities,  that 
some,  who  held  their  heads  as  high  as  wealth  and  pride 
could  raise  them,  laid  aside  all  early  prejudices  and  coun- 
tenanced that  equality  truly  shocking  to  a  sense  of  pro- 
priety, by  having  their  daughters  instructed  in  this  so- 
called  graceful  and  elegant  accomplishment  by  a  negro 
man — a  lineal  descendant  of  Ham,  and  once  a  slave — and 
this  was  done  in  a  slave  State.  Query:  Might  not  one 
polished  enough  to  educate  our  sons  and  daughters  for 
the  ball-room  be  allowed  an  opportunity  of  sufficient 
mental  culture  to  raise  him  to  the  standard  of  a  rational 
Christian? 

I  would  not  be  supposed  to  be  maintaining  a  war 
against  all  elegant,  external  accomplishments,  for  cer- 
tainly Christianity  would  be  no  gainer  by  rendering  her 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  379 

disciples  dull  and  unattractive.  Religion,  woman's  dia- 
dem of  beauty,  does  not  forbid  the  acquisition  of  that 
which  is  truly  agreeable  and  justly  admirable, — awarding 
to  these,  however,  their  proper  place,  and  esteeming  the 
art  of  pleasing  just  in  proportion  to  its  value, — never 
suffering  it  to  exclude  the  higher  and  more  useful  attain- 
ments. Accomplishments  should  be  cultivated  to  amuse 
leisure,  not  to  engross  life.  The  injudicious  practice  of 
endeavoring  to  originate  talents  where  they  do  not  exist 
by  nature  can  not  be  too  much  discouraged.  Education 
only  develops  the  latent  powers  of  the  mind  and  disci- 
plines its  native  forces;  hence  the  truth  of  the  assertion 
that  where  too  much  is  attempted  it  has  the  unhappy 
tendency  of  weakening  the  powers  of  the  mind  by  drawing 
off  its  strength  into  too  great  a  variety  of  channels;  and 
I  well  know  that  the  crowding  of  a  multiplicity  of  em- 
ployments into  the  few  years  allotted  to  girls  for  the 
acquirement  of  a  good  education  rather  creates  a  thirst 
for  novelty  than  for  knowledge ;  it  is  in  reality  promoting 
ignorance.  Every  body  acknowledges  the  fact  that  the 
human  mind  is  so  constituted  as  to  be  enabled  to  attend. 
to  but  one  thing  at  a  time  successfully;  and  if  the  day 
be  cut  up  into  many  separate  portions  it  can  not  profit- 
ably be  employed.  It  requires  close  and  constant  appli- 
cation for  years  to  secure  a  sufficient  amount  of  the 
current  gold  of  literature,  in  addition  to  the  regular 
foundation  training,  to  prepare  a  young  lady  to  be  use- 
ful as  well  as  ornamental  in  society.  No  railway  has 
ever  been  constructed,  no  locomotive  invented,  by  which 
the  student  can  be  saved  the  labor  of  thinking  or  acting 
for  herself.  The  burden  of  application  can  not  be  taken 
from  her  shoulders  and  stowed  away  in  the  baggage-car. 
With  singular  inconsistency  a  girl's  educational  course 


380  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

is  mapped  out  to  be  completed  before  the  age  of  seven- 
teen or  eighteen;  and  she  leaves  school  at  the  very  time 
when  she  is  best  prepared  for  the  acquirement  of  solid 
learning,  after  which,  instead  of  remaining  at  home  three 
or  four  years  to  obtain  a  knowledge  of  those  domes- 
tic employments  which  are  calculated  to  keep  up  a  sense 
of  that  mutual  dependence  which  binds  fond  and  lov- 
ing families  together,  she  dashes  into  society  indiscrimi- 
nately banishing  all  such  employments  as  fit  woman  for 
the  sphere  she  must  occupy.  What  becomes  of  the 
time  she  intended  to  devote  to  a  more  general  reading 
of  history,  biography,  and  travels?  When  is  she  to  learn 
to  sew  and  knit,  to  brew  and  bake?  all  of  which  are  nec- 
essary to  fit  her  for  a  good  housekeeper,  an  excellent 
wife,  and  a  mother  competent  to  the  task  of  instructing 
her  children  in  early  life. 

Boys,  on  the  contrary,  spend  four,  five,  or  six  years  at 
school,  learning  the  sing-song  inflections  of  Latin  nouns 
and  verbs,  poring  over  Greek  grammars  and  construing 
Virgil  and  Homer,  after  which  comes  a  college  course, 
and  then  years  devoted  to  the  study  of  a  profession. 
This  is  all  right,  and  nobody  complains  of  their  wasting 
time  in  academic  halls;  whatever  else  the  world  does 
or  leaves  undone,  it  seems  a  fixed  fact  that  the  control- 
ling influence  of  custom  will  have  it  just  so;  and  is  this 
past  remedy? 

And  here  again  I  may  be  charged  with  repeating  what 
is  in  every  body's  mouth,  undeniable  things  known  to  be 
as  true  as  that  two  and  two  make  four;  but  my  reader 
must  bear  with  me,  recollecting  how  much  the  subject  of 
education  has  been  handled;  remembering,  also,  that 
though  there  is  nothing  new  under  the  sun  to  be  said 
upon  this  matter,  yet  there  is  a  necessity  that  it  should 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  381 

be  repeated  and  held  up  to  view,  to  impress  the  world 
with  the  importance  of  brightening,  as  much  as  possible, 
the  destiny  of  woman;  and  so  thoroughly  is  woman's 
elevation  interwoven  with  every  fiber  of  my  heart  that  I 
wish  to  leave  a  testimony  in  this  book  to  be  read  by 
many  when  my  voice  shall  no  longer  be  heard  in  the 
school-room. 

We  see  and  lament  the  defective  course  pursued  in 
the  present  age  with  regard  to  the  cultivation  of  the  heart 
and  the  formation  of  the  mind — especially,  in  our  own 
country,  where  people  are  so  busily  striving  to  accumu- 
late wealth.  True,  much  has  been  done,  and  more  said, 
and  much  is  still  being  done  to  remedy  this  evil.  Doubt- 
less we  shall  eventually  succeed,  with  God's  blessing,  in 
"bringing  forth  the  top-stone  with  shouting." 

The  progress  of  human  knowledge  is  slow ;  and,  like 
the  uprising  sun,  though  we  may  watch  it  ever  so  in- 
tently, we  can  not  see  that  it  moves;  yet,  after  the  lapse 
of  time,  we  know  by  comparison  that  it  has  progressed. 
Hence  I  would  admonish  my  co-laborers  in  the  noble 
work  of  teaching  not  to  be  discouraged.  Having  put 
our  hands  to  the  plow  we  must  keep  steadily  onward, 
root  out  early  prejudices,  and  prepare  the  ground  for  the 
reception  of  that  good  seed  which  shall  strike  downwards 
and  spring  up  to  eternal  life.  Lessons  early  imparted 
and  daily  interwoven  by  practice  and  habit  become  sec- 
ond nature,  and  thus  perform  the  office  of  lawgiver  in 
maturer  years. 

I  would  advert  to  the  long-contested  question  whether 
private  instruction  or  boarding-schools  ought  to  be  pre- 
ferred. Many  wealthy  families  provide  governesses  for 
their  daughters,  not  only  because  they  wish  to  keep  them 

at  home,  but  with  the  expectation  that  they  will  be  more 

25 


382  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

thoroughly  educated.  I  would  not  presume  to  dictate, 
though  I  may  advise,  and  yet  I  hardly  think  it  necessary 
to  argue  the  advantages  and  disadvantages  of  private 
instruction,  as  few  in  our  own  country  are  able  to  edu- 
cate their  children  at  home;  nor  do  I  think  it  desirable. 
I  have  it  in  my  power  to  answer  some  of  the  objections 
made  against  large  schools.  It  has  been  frequently  said 
that  children  are  exposed  to  the  danger  of  having  their 
morals  corrupted  in  a  boarding-school  by  improper  asso- 
ciations. This  is  not  the  case  in  a  well-regulated  and 
properly  disciplined  school.  In  fact,  much  depends  upon 
the  natural  disposition  of  children,  or  I  should  rather  say 
upon  their  previous  training  and  the  care  bestowed  upon 
them  before  they  leave  the  parental  roof.  Children  fre- 
quently hear  and  see  things  at  home  of  which  they  ought 
to  be  ignorant  during  their  whole  lives.  Thus  evil  be- 
comes incorporated  in  their  nature,  and  it  is  not  uncom- 
mon that,  from  neglect  of  proper  instruction  at  home, 
they  become  vicious  before  knowing  what  vice  is.  Often 
breathing  nothing  but  luxury  and  pleasure,  living  in  al- 
most total  indolence,  and  daily  acquiring  bad  habits,  they 
become  disorderly  and  irregular  in  their  conduct,  and 
carry  evil  influences  along  with  them  into  school,  instead 
of  receiving  them  there.  On  the  contrary,  in  a  good 
school,  under  the  strict  supervision  of  competent  teachers 
these  selfish  habits  and  irregularities  may  be  greatly  sub- 
dued and  sometimes  eradicated. 

The  second  objection  offered  by  some  is,  that  their 
advancement  is  not  so  rapid,  and  much  more  superficial 
than  when  a  teacher  has  one  or  a  few  to  instruct,  and 
each  one  of  these  attended  to  individually.  But  this  has 
been  disproved  by  the  experience  of  many.  I  have  tried 
both  plans,  and  am  prepared  to  speak  confidently  on  the 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  383 

subject.  The  worth  of  an  institution  of  learning  does 
not  depend  altogether  upon  the  amount  of  information 
which  patient  teachers  may,  in  a  few  years,  pour  into 
empty  heads ;  but  rather  upon  the  proportions  which  the 
intellectual  nature  may  acquire  by  the  thoroughness  of 
discipline  to  which  it  is  subjected,  and  the  bearing  of 
such  an  education  upon  practical  life.  The  chief  object: 
of  a  collegiate  or  academical  course  is  discipline. 

Under  private  instruction,  children  are  also  without 
that  emulation,  which,  when  properly  excited,  is  one  of 
the  greatest  advantages  of  large  schools.  This  emulation 
is  wanting  where  the  pupil  is  not  stimulated  by  being 
classed,  and  has  no  one  with  whom  she  can  compare  her- 
self; she  either  becomes  dull,  languid,  and  dejected,  rusts 
in  a  manner,  or  else  falls  into  an  opposite  extreme,  grows 
conceited,  and  values  her  attainments  more  highly  than 
she  ought.  Besides  the  ardor,  which  a  noble  emulation 
well  managed  gives  to  young  minds,  such  institutions 
afford  ample  room  for  the  exercise  of  the  greatest  virtues, 
and  lead  to  the  most  arduous  undertakings  in  the  path  of 
learning.  The  pupils  also  form  acquaintances  and  culti- 
vate friendships  which  often  last  as  long  as  life  itself. 
Some  of  these  associations  are  of  the  best  kind  and  have 
a  happy  influence  on  their  future  destiny. 

Another  advantage  is,  that  a  child  profits,  not  only  by 
the  instruction  given  to  her,  but  by  that  imparted  to 
others.  She  meets  also  with  such  models  in  her  compan- 
ions as  she  flatters  herself  with  the  hope  of  one  day 
equaling,  if  not  excelling.  This  gives  a  new  impulse  to 
the  powers  of  mind  and  heart,  and  awakens  some  latent 
faculty  which  might  otherwise  have  remained  forever 
dormant. 

One   unfortunate   practice,    which   greatly  prevails  in 


384  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

our  country,  is  that  of  frequently  changing  schools.  It 
is  utterly  impossible  for  a  young  lady  to  be  any  thing 
like  well  educated  under  such  circumstances.  As  well 
might  we  expect  a  rolling  stone  to  gather  moss,  or  a 
sieve  to  be  filled  with  water.  No  matter  if  each  success- 
ive school  have  equal  advantages ;  each  has  its  own 
peculiar  rules,  regulations,  and  prescribed  method,  and 
every  teacher  who  possesses  any  tact  in  communicating 
has  her  own  course  marked  out;  hence  every  change 
throws  the  pupil  back,  like  the  snail  that  climbed  five 
feet  up  the  wall  in  a  day  and  fell  back  three  at  night. 

Last,  but  not  least,  I  refer  to  the  importance  of  teach- 
ing girls  the  religious  use  of  time, — the  duty  of  conse- 
crating to  God  every  talent,  every  faculty,  every  posses- 
sion. They  can  not  be  too  particularly  guarded  against 
idleness  and  a  slovenly  habit  of  wasting  time.  Let  them 
be  accustomed  to  pass  from  serious  business  to  animated 
recreations,  and  be  preserved  from  those  long  and  torpid 
intervals  between  both — that  inanimate  drowsiness  which 
wears  out  so  great  a  portion  of  life  in  both  young  and 
old.  Activity  is  necessary  to  virtue,  and  indispensable 
to  happiness. 

We  are  all  aware  of  the  influence  woman  has  exer- 
cised over  the  destinies  of  the  world,  from  Mother  Eve 
down  to  the  present  time ;  and  when  we  consider  the 
variety  of  mischief  which  an  ill -directed  influence  has 
been  known  to  produce,  we  are  led  to  reflect  with  the 
most  sanguine  hopes  upon  the  beneficial  effects  to  be 
expected  from  the  same  powerful  force  when  exerted  in 
its  true  direction.  It  is  a  fact  that  the  state  of  civilized 
soicety  depends  much  upon  the  prevailing  sentiments  and 
habits  of  woman,  and  upon  the  nature  and  degree  of  esti- 
mation in  which  she  is  held.  Many  readily  admit  the 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  385 

power  of  female  elegance  and  refinement  upon  the  man- 
ners of  men,  yet  do  not  always  attend  to  the  influence 
of  female  principles  upon  their  characters. 

Reflections  like  these  should  suggest  the  necessity  of 
neglecting  nothing  in  the  formation  of  morals,  mind,  or 
manners,  that  might  tend  to  purify,  strengthen,  and  adorn 
the  characters  of  our  daughters, — that  not  only  they,  but 
the  world  into  which  they  are  thrown,  shall  have  reason 
to  arise  and  call  them  blessed;  and  that  in  the  great  day 
of  general  account  every  Christian  parent  may  be  enabled 
through  divine  favor  to  say,  with  humble  confidence,  to 
our  Maker  and  Redeemer,  "Behold  the  daughters  thou 
hast  given  me."  Let  us  well  remember  that  this  is  a  dig- 
nified work  in  which  we  are  engaged,  a  high  and  holy 
calling, — no  less  than  that  of  "preserving  the  Ark  of  the 
Lord."  Let  mothers  begin  the  great  work  upon  the 
minds  of  their  daughters  in  infancy,  and  root  out  with  a 
strong  hand  vanity,  selfishness,  obstinacy,  and  every  other 
hydra-headed  monster,  which  may  show  itself  in  the  secret 
and  complicated  workings  of  the  human  heart. 

Young  persons  should  be  taught  to  distrust  their  own 
judgment,  and  never  murmur  at  expostulation.  They 
should  be  accustomed  to  expect  opposition,  and  learn  to 
endure  it;  for  this  is  a  lesson  which  the  world  will  not 
fail  to  furnish,  and  they  will  practice  it  the  better  for 
having  learned  it  early.  A  submissive  temper  and  for- 
bearing spirit  should  be  particularly  inculcated,  which 
must  be  practiced,  not  on  the  low  ground  of  its  being 
decorous,  feminine,  pleasing,  and  calculated  to  attract 
human  favor,  but  on  the  high  principle  of  obedience  to 
Christ,  and  on  the  practical  ground  of  laboring  after  con- 
formity to  Him  who  has  said,  "Learn  of  me,  for  I  am 
meek  and  lowly  in  heart,"  and  who  has  graciously  prom- 


386  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

ised  that  the  reward  shall  accompany  the  practice,  by 
encouragingly  adding,  "And  ye  shall  find  rest  for  your 
souls." 

Of  all  the  troubles  of  education,  none  are  to  be  com- 
pared to  that  of  bringing  up  a  child  that  lacks  sensibility. 
Lively  and  sensitive  dispositions  are  capable  of  great 
wanderings.  Passion  and  presumption  lead  them  on,  but 
they  have  great  resources,  and  often  return  from  error. 
Instruction  is  in  them  a  hidden  germ,  which  sometimes, 
when  experience  comes  to  the  assistance  of  reason,  and 
when  passion  is  cool,  blooms  and  bears  fruit,  especially 
if  the  teacher  can  render  them  attentive  and  awaken  their 
curiosity;  whereas  you  can  have  little  influence  upon  one 
of  those  passive  minds,  one  whose  thoughts  are  never 
where  they  ought  to  be.  Neither  reproof  nor  correction 
can  move  them ;  they  hear  all,  but  feel  nothing. 

Indolence  renders  a  child  negligent  and  disgusted  with 
every  thing  she  does;  and  the  best  education  runs  the 
risk  of  being  thrown  away  if  we  do  not  hasten  to  check 
the  evil  at  an  early  period.  Many  teachers  suppose  that 
every  thing  depends. on  education  in  forming  the  mind, 
and  that  nature  has  nothing  to  do  with  it;  while  the  fact 
is,  there  are  some  dispositions  which  resemble  an  ungrate- 
ful soil  for  which  culture  does  but  little.  These  trouble- 
some characters  should  neither  be  crossed,  neglected,  nor 
ill-regulated  in  the  commencement.  Endeavor  to  discover 
if  the  temper  you  have  to  govern  be  wanting  in  curiosity, 
and  if  it  be  insensible  to  honest  emulation.  In  this  case 
it  will  be  necessary  to  stir  up  all  the  resources  of  the  soul 
to  overcome  the  lethargy.  Do  not  at  first  press  a  formal 
course  of  instruction.  Take  great  care  not  to  overcharge 
the  memory;  do  not  fatigue  by  restraining  rules,  but 
enforce  instruction  according  to  the  occasion,  by  little  and 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  387 

little,  as  it  may  be  required,  and  according  to  the  capac- 
ity of  the  mind  to  be  instructed.  By  patience  and  per- 
severance that  may  be  accomplished  which  might  at  first 
seem  an  impossibility,  and  the  most  ungrateful  soil  may 
be  made  to  bring  forth  fruit. 

Some  of  my  readers  may  feel  disposed  to  complain 
of  my  repeated  comments  upon  the  necessity  of  the  early 
training  of  girls.  But  can  we  hope  to  accomplish  the  end 
we  have  in  view,  to  regulate  the  temporal  and  spiritual 
interests  of  the  sex,  without  keeping  this  subject  con- 
stantly before  us  and  showing  it  up  in  the  strongest 
light?  What  is  the  world  but  an  assemblage  of  families? 
and  who  can  regulate  these  families  with  a  more  exact 
care  than  women  who  possess  the  advantages  of  a  suita- 
ble education?  No  one  can  describe  the  influence  of  a 
female  who,  to  an  excellent  heart  and  a  cultivated  mind, 
joins  a  soul  superior  to  the  frowns  of  fortune  or  the 
temptations  of  the  world,  and  who  is  calculated  for  all  the 
duties  she  owes  to  God,  her  neighbor,  and  herself.  Dili- 
gent and  religious,  she  is  the  soul  of  her  family.  She  is 
gentle,  forbearing,  and  full  of  that  sweet  benevolence 
which,  forgetful  of  itself,  respects  the  feelings  and  inter- 
ests of  others. 

"A  woman,  loveliest  of  the  lovely  kind, 
In  body  perfect,  and  complete  in  mind." 

If  education  be  a  school  to  fit  us  for  life,  and  life  a 
school  to  prepare  us  for  eternity,  too  much  care  can  not 
be  taken  to  begin  and  continue  upon  that  system  most 
likely  to  effect  the  desired  end.  I  have  frequently  re- 
verted to  the  subject  of  religious  culture,  but  would,  if 
possible,  enforce  it  more  strongly.  Many  well-meaning 
persons  have  deprecated  the  practice  of  instilling  relig- 
ious knowledge  into  the  minds  of  children,  under  the 


388  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

pretense  that  it  is  important  to  the  cause  of  truth  that 
the  mind  should  be  kept  free  from  prepossessions,  and 
that  every  one  should  be  left  to  form  such  opinions  on 
religious  subjects  as  may  seem  best  to  his  own  reason  in 
maturer  years;  but  this  is  to  deny  the  truth  of  Chris- 
tianity, if  not  effectually  to  destroy  it  under  the  plausible 
excuse  of  free  agency. 

We  should  be  careful,  it  is  true,  that  the  religion  we 
teach  should  be  the  religion  of  the  Bible,  and  not  the 
inventions  of  human  error  and  superstition ;  and  that 
what  we  attempt  to  infuse  into  others  should  be  the 
result  of  close  scrutiny,  and  not  the  offerings  of  credulity 
and  bigotry.  There  are  certain  leading  and  fundamental 
truths,  certain  sentiments  on  the  side  of  Christianity  as 
well  as  of  virtue  and  benevolence,  in  favor  of  which  every 
child  ought  to  be  prepossessed.  We  need  not  fear  that 
the  young  mind  will  have  too  much  light  on  the  subject 
of  what  is  right  and  true ;  and  I  might  add  that  to  keep 
the  mind  void  of  all  prepossessions  on  any  or  every  sub- 
ject is  a  vain  and  impracticable  attempt,  the  very  sug- 
gestion of  which  argues  ignorance  of  human  nature.  We 
must  sow  good  seed  in  the  heart,  or  the  devil  will  sow 
tares,  and  that  so  abundantly  as  to  render  the  soil  difficult 
of  cultivation  for  good.  Our  Savior  has  said,  "Suffer  little 
children  to  come  unto  me ;"  thus  we  should  begin,  con- 
tinue, and  end  with  Christianity.  Shall  so  much  time  be 
spent  in  the  acquisition  of  physical  and  intellectual  advan- 
tages, and  none,  comparatively  speaking,  for  eternity?  Do 
young  ladies,  become  musicians,  linguists,  and  mathema- 
ticians by  early  study,  and  shall  they  become  Christians 
by  accident?  Oh,  fatal  mistake!  Shall  all  these  accom- 
plishments, which  perish  in  the  using,  be  so  assiduously, 
so  systematically  taught,  and  shall  the  knowledge  which 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  389 

is  to  make  them  wise  unto  salvation  be  picked  up  at 
random?  Shall  that  knowledge,  which  parents  are  re- 
quired in  the  Scriptures  to  teach  their  children  diligently, 
commanded  to  talk  of  when  they  sit  in  their  houses  and 
when  they  walk  by  the  way,  when  they  lie  down  and 
when  they  rise  up,  be  omitted,  deferred,  or  slightly 
taught,  or  superseded  by  things  of  comparatively  little 
value?  Away  with  such  a  soul-destroying  doctrine  from 
the  earth !  No ;  let  us  have  the  Bible  for  our  text-book 
on  all  occasions ;  for  if  that  be  the  purest  eloquence  which 
most  persuades,  and  which  comes  home  to  the  heart  with 
the  fullest  evidence  and  the  most  irresistible  force,  then 
no  eloquence  is  so  powerful  as  that  of  the  Bible. 

Intelligent  Christian  teachers  will  be  instructed  by  the 
Bible  itself  how  to  communicate  its  truths  with  life  and 
spirit;  while  they  are  musing  the  fire  will  burn, — that 
fire  that  will  preserve  them  from  an  insipid,  dull,  or 
freezing  mode  of  instruction.  It  has  been  falsely  asserted 
that  the  Bible  is  too  intricate  to  be  presented  in  its  own 
native  form,  that  it  puzzles  and  bewilders  the  youthful 
understanding.  In  all  needful  and  indispensable  points 
of  knowledge  the  Bible  is  as  clear  as  the  noonday  sun. 
The  darkness  of  Scripture  is  but  a  partial  darkness,  like 
that  of  Egypt  benighting  only  the  enemies  of  God,  while 
his  children  are  left  in  the  clear  daylight.  What  then? 
banish  the  Bible  from  our  schools?  God  in  mercy  forbid! 
Rather  let  it  be  the  vade  mecum  of  every  school-girl.  It 
is  the  only  pure  fountain  of  morality  and  true  religion, 
and  should  be  our  principal  reference -book  throughout 
the  journey  of  life.  Without  this  chart  and  compass,  the 
ignis  fatuus  of  worldly  learning  would  lead  to  inevitable 
shipwreck. 

Woman  was  first  in  the  transgression,  and  how  lovely 


390  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

and  acceptable  in  the  sight  of  God  that  she  should  be  the 
first  to  return  to  him.  The  most  distinguished  women 
the  world  has  ever  known  have  been  eminent  for  their 
piety.  It  is  piety  that  brightens  every  charm,  and  gives 
grace  and  glory  to  the  unfading  coronet  that  crowns  the 
intellectual  brow.  'T  is  true  we  read  of  some  flashing 
meteors  among  heathen  women,  and  in  later  ages  of  some 
who  rejected  the  Bible  as  their  counsel;  but  they  soon 
disappeared  amid  the  darkness  of  their  own  vices,  and 
their  names  serve  only  to  blot  the  pages  of  history.  Our 
hearts  sicken  to  know  that  such  ever  existed.  In  vain 
may  we  expect  to  find  good  fruits  amid  the  impure  exha- 
lations of  an  unhealthy  soil,  or  suppose  that  virtue  may 
be  produced  from  a  ground  that  has  been  exhausted  by 
repeated  crops  of  vice.  Some  good  and  pious  people, 
most  unfortunately  for  their  children,  consider  them  as 
possessing  a  kind  of  hereditary  claim  to  perfection,  and 
suppose  the  necessity  of  culture  to  be  superseded  by  the 
parent  plant.  This  is  a  fatal  mistake.  Children  inherit 
nothing  so  much  as  a  propensity  to  sin, — all  else  must  be 
taught  them.  The  mines  of  Golconda  were  of  little  worth 
to  the  owner  without  being  wrought. 

Education  —  female  education  !  Who  will  not  say, 
God  speed  this  glorious  cause?  Yea,  with  heart  and 
hand,  let  us  unite  in  promoting  its  advancement. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  391 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

As  I  write,  the  vision  of  a  Lancastrian  school  which  I 
attended  long,  long  ago  in  Georgetown,  District  of 
Columbia,  rises  up  before  me — one  of  the  most  pleasant 
reminiscences  of  my  life.  This  excellent  system  of  mu- 
tual instruction  was  introduced  into  England  by  the  good 
old  Quaker,  Joseph  Lancaster,  in  1803,  and  thence  into 
the  United  States  about  the  year  1814.  It  was  a  vast 
improvement  upon  the  old  style  of  forcing  wayward 
children  into  a  proper  appreciation  of  school  privileges. 
I  have  often  wondered  why  these  institutions  did  not 
become  more  popular,  and  take  deeper  root  in  our 
country,  where  a  rapid  and  general  diffusion  of  knowl- 
edge is  so  desirable.  Our  common-school  system  is, 
doubtless,  a  modification  of  the  original. plan,  and  may 
be  an  improvement  when  properly  conducted,  but  my 
own  experience  of  the  rapid  progress  made  in  the  elemen- 
tary branches,  especially  in  reading,  writing,  and  arith- 
metic, the  arts  by  which  the  sciences  are  to  be  acquired, 
has  left  a  vivid  impression  on  my  mind.  The  general 
good  order,  strict  discipline, .  and  beautiful  arrangement 
of  that  school,  the  judicious  appointment  of  well-qualified 
teachers,  who  selected  efficient  and  faithful  monitors, 
brought  forth  results  fully  demonstrating  the  practical 
value  and  thoroughness  of  the  instruction  given. 

The  Female  Department  was  a  spacious  room  with 
lateral  aisles,  along  which  were  arranged  in  regular  suc- 
cession a  number  of  semicircular  recitation  forms.  Long 


392  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

rows  of  desks  occupied  the  center  of  the  room.  The 
classes  were  seated  at  these  in  regular  gradation,  the 
younger  ones  being  nearest  the  teacher's  desk,  which  was 
upon  a  raised  platform  at  one  end  of  the  room,  very  much 
resembling  the  pulpits  of  our  modern  churches.  Here  our 
Minerva  stood  armed  with  her  magic  wand,  swaying  the 
multitude  before  her.  From  six  to  eight  classes,  besides 
the  one  taught  by  the  principal,  were  reciting  at  the 
same  time  to  monitors  with  but  little  noise  and  no  con- 
fusion. These  in  regular  routine  came  once  during  the 
day  under  the  examination  of  the  principal.  The  words, 
"attention!  look!"  and  "listen!"  were  never  heard  ex- 
cept through  the  silver  tones  of  her  little  bell.  During  the 
time  of  my  sojourn  in  this  school  a  lovely  Quakeress  pre- 
sided— a  woman  of  commanding  presence,  and  a  genuine, 
conscientious  teacher  of  great  experience.  She  was  an 
ornament  to  her  sex,  and  a  model  worthy  to  be  known 
and  studied.  Her  very  appearance  was  so  prepossessing 
that  you  loved  her  almost  as  soon  as  you  looked  upon  her. 
She  wore  the  full  Quaker  costume,  with  all  its  minutest 
proprieties — her  beautiful  brown  hair  closely  braided  on 
her  calm  forehead,  that  snowy  Friends'  cap,  which  never 
loses  its  form  even  under  a  close  bonnet,  a  pure  white 
muslin  handkerchief  crossed  over  her  bosom  in  the 
exactest  folds;  a  dove-colored  silk  shawl,  just  large 
enough  to  reach  to  her  elbows,  pinned  on  each  side. 
She  wore  no  ornaments  of  any  kind,  her  handkerchief 
being  confined  at  the  throat  by  the  daintiest  of  common 
pins;  no  little  point  was  overlooked  or  omitted  upon 
which  the  propriety  of  the  whole  depended;  no  something 
was  added,  though  a  mere  nothing  in  itself  or  in  the  eyes 
of  others,  that  might  mar  the  whole. 

Miss  Margaret  Judge  had  that  decided  expression  of 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  393 

countenance  that  indicated  a  clear  head,  strong  good 
sense  and  great  firmness  of  character.  A  quiet,  self-pos- 
sessed demeanor,  resulting  from  integrity  of  purpose 
that  goes  at  once  to  the  point  without  circumlocution, 
amounted  almost  to  severity,  was  yet  tempered  by  the 
tenderest  and  truest  of  female  hearts.  I  never  heard  her 
laugh  but  her  sweet  face  smiled  all  over  with  the  illumi- 
nation of  a  sanctified  soul,  and  often  brightened  into  an 
intensity  that  bespoke  an  intellect  highly  cultivated  and 
beautifully  refined.  We  loved  her  with  all  the  reverence 
of  profound  respect,  mingled  with  the  devotion  of  young 
enthusiastic  hearts.  I  have  seen  more  than  three  hun- 
dred children  decorous  and  quiet  under  the  influence  of 
her  mild  yet  firm  government.  So  habitual  was  her 
precision  of  mind  and  action,  that  whatever  she  did  was 
done  by  rule.  Her  motto  was,  "Whatever  is  worth 
doing  at  all  is  worth  doing  well."  Though  on  the  verge 
of  forty,  she  was  handsome,  with  a  face  as  smooth  as 
that  of  a  child,  resulting  from  the  quiet  tenor  of  a  life 
spent  in  the  cultivation  of  the  affections  and  free  from  the 
touch  of  its  anxieties.  Hers  was  a  sympathetic  char- 
acter, full  of  energy  and  glowing  with  enthusiasm  for  the 
beautiful,  the  true,  and  the  good;  eminently  adapted  to 
the  position  she  occupied  in  this  admirable  school,  which 
aspired  to  no  more  than  could  be  well  done  from  the 
ABC  scholar,  who  formed  letters  in  the  clear  white 
sand,  until  perfectly  familiar  with  these  foundation  prin- 
ciples, onward  through  the  most  rigid  course  of  intel- 
lectual training. 

The  Lancastrian  schools  occupied  neutral  ground,  and 
struck  bravely  for  the  cardinal  principles  of  a  liberal 
education — exact  scholarship  in  the  elementary  branches. 
The  rapidity  with  which  the  children  learned  to  write 


394  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

and  the  elegant  penmanship  of  the  higher  classes  were 
remarkable.  I  learned  to  write  there  so  beautifully  that 
a  silver  pen  and  pencil,  the  first  I  ever  saw,  was  awarded 
me  as  a  premium,  and  I  have  been  a  ready  writer 
ever  since. 

No  'ologies  were  forced  upon  us  in  the  transition 
state  of  the  growing  mind ;  none  of  that  hot-house  system 
so  greatly  to  be  deprecated,  and  so  fatal  to  the  acquire- 
ment of  real  knowledge.  The  plain  old  Quaker,  Joseph 
Lancaster,  knew  that  there  must  be  time  for  mental  as 
well  as  physical  development.  Minds  were  suffered  to 
expand  into  their  full  stature  and  native  proportions. 
Good  and  faithful  teachers  will  not  try  to  grow  minds, 
but  let  them  grow  as  rapidly  as  nature  will  permit.  The 
citizens  of  Georgetown  liberally  patronized  this  school — 
even  the  most  aristocratic — feeling  that  not  only  the 
improvement  of  their  own  children,  but  the  general 
interests  of  the  whole  community  were  involved  in  it; 
they  did  not  reject  it,  though  a  free  school ;  and  thought 
it  not  derogatory  to  enroll  their  boys  and  girls  among  its 
numbers.  ^We  had  monthly  examinations,  at  which  time 
the  large  folding-doors  were  thrown  open,  giving  a  full 
view  of  the  Male  Department,  over  which  presided  a 
thoroughly  well-bred  Englishman  of  dignified  manners 
and  profound  erudition.  Mr.  Old  was  a  man  who  left 
his  impress  upon  the  hearts  and  minds  of  his  pupils. 

What  a  privilege  we  girls  considered  it  to  visit  his 
school-room  on  Saturdays,  and  listen  to  his  description 
of  England's  rural  scenery,  dotted  with  ancient  cathe- 
drals and  ruined  castles,  whose  intricate  passages  went 
rambling  about  in  such  strange  fashion,  and  from  whose 
turrets  crept  many  a  thrilling  story  of  the  Middle  Ages. 
We  helped  to  stitch  his  pamphlet  copy-books,  ruled  the 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  395 

lines  and  dusted  his  library;  and  then  came  the  reward  of 
our  industry  from  his  well-stored  memory.  I  remember 
how  I  used  to  fancy  him  a  disguised  nobleman,  and  that 
by  and  by  would  come  the  finale  of  my  own  romance, 
by  his  marrying  Miss  Judge,  whom  really  he  seldom  saw 
and  never  conversed  with  except  on  school  matters. 

One  of  the  sweetest  personifications  of  girlhood  I 
ever  knew  was  a  sister  of  Miss  Judge,  a  little  maiden 
just  entering  her  fourteenth  year,  and  to  whom  I  was 
very  much  attached.  Though  completely  hedged  in  by 
that  peculiarity  of  dress  belonging  to  the  sect  of  her 
fathers,  and  not  permitted  to  vary  her  garb  with  every 
phase  of  fashion,  she  had  a  certain  modified  style  about 
her,  chastened  always  by  parental  authority,  that  ren- 
dered her  appearance  very  pleasing.  Thus  Susanna,  in 
her  light  dove-colored  dress  and  a  bonnet  as  plain  as  her 
grandmother's  in  fashion  and  color,  looked  really  elegant 
and  attractive.  The  "dew  of  youth"  was  upon  her 
beautiful  face,  and  her  dark  hair  fell  in  a  mass  of  glossy 
curls  almost  to  her  waist  when  not  confined  by  cap  or 
bonnet.  No  wonder  that  an  occasional  glance  in  her 
tiny  hand-mirror  gave  rise  to  the  coquettish  desire  to  be 
seen  and  admired.  No  wonder  that  she  sometimes 
made  a  display  when  from  under  her  mother's  eye, 
which  raised  the  admonishing  finger  of  "Sister  Mar- 
garet." "Take  care,  Susanna,  thee  must  not  cherish 
vain  thoughts!  bind  up  thy  hair,  and  keep  on  thy  cap; 
cast  away  that  pride  of  heart  so  unbecoming  in  a  young 
maiden!"  And,  again,  "Susanna,  I  must  inform  father 
if  thee  will  display  thy  curls,  and  they  will  be  cut  off." 

It  is  a  common  thing  to  deride  school-girl  friendships, 
and  to  compare  them  to  the  morning  dew;  but  there  are 
some  that  outlive  time  and  circumstances  and,  like  the 


396  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

last  roses  of  Summer,  shed  a  fragrance  over  life's  drear- 
iest hours.  There  was  a  chord  in  Susanna's  heart  which 
vibrated  in  unison  with  my  own;  we  sat  together  on  the 
same  form,  read  together  from  the  same  interesting  book 
at  play-time;  walked  arm  in  arm  from  school  that  we 
might  linger  over  an  interesting  conversation.  Scott's 
novels  were  just  then  being  rapidly  issued  from  the  press 
and  were  exciting  an  intense  interest  in  the  reading 
world.  We  were  both  fond  of  reading,  and  were  often 
hid  away  between  school-hours,  and  so  deeply  absorbed 
in  one  of  these  historical  novels  that  we  caught  many 
a  reprimand  for  being  tardy. 

Good  and  religious  persons  condemned  Scott's  novels 
too  severely ;  they  certainly  have  the  merit  of  producing 
a  purer  taste  among  romance  readers,  and  yet  danger 
does  lurk  among  the  folded  leaves  of  the  best  written 
novels — cultivating,  as  they  do,  a  taste  for  fiction  rather 
than  fact.  Our  people  read,  and  read  a  great  deal,  and 
it  is  a  pity  that  the  press  should  teem  with  multiplied 
thousands  of  trashy  books ;  yet  perhaps  no  other  country 
can  present  a  population  of  more  general  intelligence  or 
one  better  informed.  Knowledge  is  distributed  over 
every  community  with  the  undistinguishing  profusion  of 
the  breath  of  heaven. 

"Her  handmaid  Art  now  all  our  wilds  explores, 
Traces  our  waves  and  cultures  all  our  shores." 

The  sources  of  this  mental  cultivation  may  be  found 
in  the  munificent  public  provision  for  schools,  and  in  the 
cheapness  and  multiplication  of  useful  books ;  yet  we 
have  comparatively  few  men  of  eminent  learning  and  pro- 
found erudition;  it  takes  time,  wealth,  and  leisure  to 
produce  such. 

Sometime   during  the  year    1830,  a  little  negro  girl 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  397 

was  introduced  into  our  family,  and  became  an  interesting 
study  to  those  who  watched  the  development  of  her 
mental  faculties.  She  was  dwarfish  and  deformed,  but 
showed  a  brilliancy  of  intellect  worth  remembering,  an 
illustration  of  the  truth  that  the  colored  race  is  capable 
of  improvement.  The  girl  was  not  more  than  eight  or 
nine  years  old,  and  just  high  enough  to  reach  the  dining 
table  conveniently.  Her  right  shoulder  protruded  consid- 
erably, and  as  she  grew  older  continued  to  enlarge  more 
rapidly  than  any  other  part  of  her  body.  Her  head  was 
large  but  perfectly  symmetrical  and  covered  with  an 
abundant  quantity  of  real  wool,  eyes  clear  and  full  of 
vivacity,  nostrils  large  and  sensitive,  lips  thick;  but  she 
articulated  more  distinctly  than  white  children  of  her  age 
generally.  Of  unmixed  African  descent,  she  was  a  real 
negro,  though  born  in  the  United  States,  and  showed 
their  usual  love  of  finery  by  decorating  her  fingers  with 
rings  and  making  as  great  a  display  of  colors  in  her  dress 
as  a  South  Sea  Islander.  This  taste,  however,  vanished 
by  degrees  as  her  mind  was  improved,  and  her  opportu- 
nities for  observation  developed  a  feminine  tact  for.  con- 
gruity  and  appropriateness. 

Engaged  in  a  round  of  occupations  that  admitted  of 
little  leisure,  I  scarcely  noticed  the  rapidity  with  which 
our  little  ebony  dwarf  learned  any  and  every  thing.  Her 
spelling,  at  first,  was  entirely  phonetic,  yet  she  soon 
learned  to  read  understandingly,  and  seemed  to  drink  in 
knowledge  through  every  surrounding  medium.  Listen- 
ing and  learning  whilst  others  taught,  she  acquired  the 
habit  of  expressing  herself  in  good  language  and  soon 
learned  to  write  neatly  and  intelligibly. 

After  the  lapse  of  a  year  or  two,  music  was  added  to 

her  other  accomplishments.     She  played  many  sweet  and 

26 


398  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

touching  pieces  on  the  piano,  the  keys  of  which  she  could 
just  conveniently  manage  when  standing,  and  over  which 
she  had  the  most  perfect  control,  her  long,  flexible 
fingers  looking  as  if  made  for  the  purpose.  Her  voice, 
like  that  of  all  the  best  singers  of  her  race,  was  plaintive, 
low,  and  sweet. 

She  played  altogether  by  ear,  her  musical  taste  being 
too  exquisite  and  natural  to  be  subjected  to  the  appren- 
ticeship of  the  instruction  book.  The  ordinary  drilling 
was  so  entirely  distasteful  to  her  that  the  girls  who  from 
time  to  time  tried  to  teach  her  to  read  music  gave  it  up 
in  despair. 

She  never  seemed  to  make  a  false  note,  but  struck  at 
once  the  right  chord  of  the  tune  she  had  heard,  as  if 
by  intuition.  The  sound  of  musical  instruments  in  full 
orchestra  made  her  frantic  with  joy.  After  ascertaining 
this  fact,  I  always  gave  her  an  opportunity  of  attending 
concerts  or  musical  entertainments  of  any  kind.  She 
brought  back  every  piece  at  the  ends  of  her  fingers. 
Her  soul,  like  a  harp,  possessed  capabilities  for  plaintive, 
joyous,  or  solemn  music ;  but  when  her  fingers  swept  the 
chords  of  the  piano,  or  touched  the  guitar,  she  usually 
brought  forth  those  wild  and  plaintive  strains  so  conge- 
nial to  her  race. 

Ritta's  memory  was  remarkable  for  capacity  and  for 
tenacity  as  well.  The  transparency  with  which  her  earli- 
est recollections  lay  mirrored  in  her  mind  rendered  it  a 
shifting  panorama  of  amusing  pictures.  Her  woven  mys- 
teries reminded  one  of  Scheherizade,  her  stories  were 
more  than  a  "thousand  and  one,"  yet  were  her  wonder- 
ing and  admiring  auditors  never  wearied  by  tedious- 
ness  nor  palled  by  monotony.  She  possessed  in  an 
eminent  degree  that  variety  which  is  the  spice  of  life. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  399 

Her  conversation,  even  before  she  had  reached  her 
teens,  differed  so  much  from  that  of  her  fellow  servants 
and  the  colored  people  generally,  that  they  found  fault 
with  her  as  being  not  one  of  them,  though  she  tried  her 
best  not  to  excite  their  jealousy ;  and  often  after  she  had 
grown  older  and  more  thoughtful  she  vainly  endeavored 
to  imitate  their  manner  of  talking. 

She  became  decidedly  religious,  a  Methodist  after  the 
strictest  sect,  though  she  never  gave  up  her  love  of  fic- 
tion, and  her  disposition  to  devour,  stealthily,  marvelous 
tales  and  romances.  Yet  as  her  judgment  matured,  she 
grew  more  reticent,  and  combined  with  her  general  read- 
ing history  and  religious  biography. 

At  the  age  of  thirty  we  desired  to  send  her  to 
Liberia,  feeling  assured  that  she  would  make  a  competent 
teacher,  and  be  very  useful  in  that  colony.  She  posi- 
tively refused  to  go.  "I  do  not  know,"  said  she  "how 
long  I  shall  be  able  to  take  care  of  myself,  and  I  am  not 
willing  to  become  a  stranger  in  a  strange  land."  She 
sometimes  thought  she  would  like  to  be  free,  but  refused 
to  accept  her  freedom  upon  the  condition  of  leaving  us. 

Her  last  illness,  though  lingering  and  painful,  was 
marked  by  patient  resignation,  and  by  that  pure  intelli- 
gent faith  expressed  in  the  words  of  St.  Paul,  which 
brings  "peace  with  God  through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
rejoicing  in  hope  of  the  glory  of  God." 

The  case  recorded  is  by  no  means  an  exceptional  one. 
I  have  known  many  others,  though  not  so  remarkable, 
that  might  be  adduced  to  prove  the  fallacy  of  the  asser- 
tion often  made,  even  by  intelligent  people,  that  the 
negro  race  has  no  capacity  for  improvement. 


400  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

SCATTERED  all  along  the  years  intervening  between 
1829  and  1836  arise  some  of  the  sunniest  recollec- 
tions, as  well  as  some  of  the  saddest  that  mark  the 
changeful  pilgrimage  of  my  teacher-life.  Pleasant,  in- 
deed, it  is  jto  review  those  busy  days  crowded  with  rem- 
iniscences; some  agreeable,  some  provoking  at  the  time, 
but  mellowed  by  the  lapse  of  years,  are  now  a  source  of 
amusement. 

My  time-worn  and  faded  school  register  presents  many 
cherished  names.  One  group  I  particularly  remember  as  a 
happy  illustration  of  what  school  life  ought  to  be.  They 
had  joys  and  pleasures  with  which  the  world  meddled 
not;  though  no  book- worms,  they  studied  well,  read 
much,  laughed  heartily,  and  never  kept  their  thoughts 
baled  up  until  they  became  stale.  What  they  knew  they 
were  willing  to  impart  to  others,  and,  like  the  little  busy 
bee,  improved  each  shining  hour  for  present  pleasure  as 
well  as  for  future  usefulness. 

Jane  C,  Amanda  M'A.,  Zerilda  S.,  Anna  M.,  Julia  B., 
and  my  two  little  pets,  if  I  ever  had  any,  Polly  Monroe 
and  Sarah  Dubberly,  both  of  whom  entered  when  quite 
young,  and  continued  with  me  until  their  school  educa- 
tion was  completed.  Among  them  also  conspicuously 
appeared  my  sister,  Arabella,  as  the  bond  and  main- 
spring. There  were  many  others,  whom  time  would  fail 
me  to  mention,  mingling  in  the  bright  galaxy  which 
spanned  the  intervening  arch,  but  these  were  particularly 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  40i 

associated  together  and  remained  longer  at  school  than 
was  then  customary.  The  dear  and  cherished  picture  of 
this  little  circle  often  rises  unbidden  before  my  eyes,  and 
I  always  feel  reluctant  to  part  with  it.  They  emulated 
each  other  in  works  of  usefulness,  and  aimed  at  excel- 
lence in  the  accomplishment  of  whatever  they  undertook. 
Here  arises  the  question,  What  is  genius  according  to 
the  common  acceptation  of  the  term?  Nothing  but 
labor  and  diligence.  The  principle  of  industry,  properly 
inculcated,  will  radiate  in  all  directions,  and  illuminate 
difficulties  by  that  light  which  duty  alone  can  shed. 

These  mind-expanding  girls  deemed  the  attainment  of 
the  objects  they  had  in  view  a  sufficient  reward  for  their 
application.  Often  when  the  recitations  of  the  day  were 
over,  they  might  be  seen  by  twos,  threes,  or  fours,  in 
some  quiet  spot,  talking  or  comparing  notes  upon  their 
daily  acquisitions.  With  spirits  radiant  as  the  Summer 
sky,  they  sought  no  greater  happiness  than  was  found  in 
each  other's  society;  and  I  venture  to  affirm  that  the 
subjects  of  their  conversation  never  turned  into  the  ordi- 
nary channels,  "What  shall  I  eat,  what  shall  I  drink,  and 
wherewithal  shall  I  be  clothed,"  and  any  of  them  would 
have  been  as  likely  to  make  the  contour  of  her  face,  or 
the  color  of  her  eyes  an  excuse  for  not  attending  Church, 
as  the  cut  of  her  garments,  or  'the  shape  of  her  bonnet. 
Nor  did  they  give  their  mutual  friendship  the  weakening 
expression  of  silly  phrases,  but  the  strengthening  one  of 
action.  Their  friendship  was  not  characterized  by  that 
violent  intimacy  sometimes  existing  in  schools. 

How  beautiful  is  that  moderate  and  everlasting  love 
which  gives  warmth  without  casting  forth  sparks,  flames 
straight  up  without  crackling,  and  is  neither  subject  to 
conflagrations  nor  eruptions! 


402  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

The  depth  and  constancy  of  pure  disinterested  friend- 
ship is  characterized  by  a  noble  emulation  in  the  path 
of  duty.  No  drop  of  envy  mingles  with  the  sparkling 
bubbles  sipped  from  the  cup  of  knowledge;  on  the  con- 
trary, there  is  a  manifest  disposition  to  lend  a  helping 
hand  to  others  traveling  the  same  rugged  pathway. 
Such  were  these  girls,  they  assisted  the  younger  ones, 
and  scattered  flowers  in  the  way  of  the  inexperienced, 
and  practiced  the  precept,  "Whatsoever  we  possess,  be- 
comes doubly  valuable  when  we  are  so  happy  as  to  share 
it  with  another." 

Amanda's  practicability  and  mathematical  cleverness, 
her  dignified,  quiet,  kind,  and  cheerful  manners,  com- 
bined with  a  proper  thoughtfulness  about  every  thing, 
gave  her  a  position  of  considerable  importance  in  school. 

The  quaint  humor  of  Zerilda,  the  sweetness  of  Jane's 
poetical  effusions,  whose  inspirations  were  often  checked 
by  her  faithful,  matter-of-fact,  but  intelligent  and  truthful 
friend,  Arabella,  strengthened  the  bond  which  united 
these  three.  Arabella  was  an  indefatigable  student,  and 
by  her  large  acquaintance  with  books  possessed  a  fund 
of  ready  knowledge  which  rendered  her  an  entertaining 
companion. 

Zerilda  read  history  con  amore,  and  would  select  by 
preference  "Rollin,"  or  "Josephus;  but  she  loved  occa- 
sionally to  refresh  herself  from  the  "Castalian  spring." 
Upon  one  occasion  I  saw  her  at  a  distance,  apparently 
quite  absorbed  in  a  large  book  open  before  her. 

"What  are  you  doing,  Zerilda?" 

"Reading  a  little  Moore  in  Josephus,  Madam,"  she 
smilingly  replied,  exhibiting  a  minute  copy  of  Moore's 
poems,  with  which  for  a  while  she  had  shut  out  the  dry 
details  of  Josephus. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  403 

The  laughter -loving  and  agreeable  Julia  was  a  ready 
friend,  and  her  very  presence  had  a  kindly  influence  on 
her  companions;  like  a  sunbeam,  she  was  clear  and 
bright.  Her  presence  "bade  dull  care  begone;"  grief 
and  melancholy  fled  before  her,  and  she  stirred  up  the 
saddest  spirits  into  a  pleasing  motion. 

After  leaving  school  their  paths  widely  diverged, — 
some  blessed  the  home  circle,  others  shone  in  society  or 
became  faithful  teachers  of  the  young;  but  whenever  a 
happy  circumstance  has  thrown  them  together  their  con- 
versation has  been  sure  to  turn  upon  the  gay  and  tender 
recollections  of  Science  Hill. 

So  much  of  the  sunshine  of  this  period  and  so  many 
pleasant  little  incidents  were  connected  with  the  two  little 
girls,  Polly  Monroe  and  Sarah  Dubberly,  that  I  can  not 
pass  them  without  further  notice.  They  entered  school 
about  the  same  time,  and  were  for  years  classmates  and 
intimate  friends,  so  that  the  history  of  the  school  life 
of  one  is  interwoven  with  that  of  the  other.  Sarah  was 
the  "Benjamin"  of  her  mother's  heart,  one  of  the  hap- 
piest little  creatures  in  the  world,  and  the  light  and  life 
of  the  household.  Her  little  head  would  probably  have 
been  quite  turned  by  the  flattering  attentions  she  received 
had  she  not  been  blessed  with  a  judicious  mother.  The 
world,  with  a  singular  inconsistency,  always  apologizes 
for  an  only  child,  and  especially  an  only  daughter,  when 
spoiled  by  hurtful  indulgences;  as  if  it  were  not  so  much 
the  more  necessary  to  endow  this  center  of  affection,  and 
it  may  be  the  sole  prop  of  devoted  parents,  with  every 
virtue,  and  all  the  excellencies  that  might  have  been  di- 
vided among  a  numerous  family.  Though  enshrined  in 
the  widowed  mother's  heart  as  the  darling  of  her  old  age, 
Sarah  was  not  the'  object  of  idolatrous  affection.  Mrs. 


404  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

Dubberly  was  a  practical  woman,  of  large  experience  and 
good  sense.  She  knew  that  mere  external  advantages 
could  not  supply  the  want  of  loveliness  of  character. 
She  nurtured  her  daughter  in  this  belief,  and<  secured 
prompt  obedience  to  her  wishes  and  instructions.  Thus, 
when  Sarah  was  old  enough  to  have  her  school  duties 
interfered  with  by  little  visitings  and  holidays,  she  was 
sent  to  a  boarding-school.  The  little  girl  was  full  of  love 
and  sunshine,  cheerful  and  obliging,  but  quick,  impulsive, 
and  sometimes  out  of  humor,  though  "anger  never  rested 
in  her  bosom;"  and  when  in  fault  she  was  so  easily  sub- 
dued, so  ready  to  apologize,  that  it  was  impossible  to 
continue  displeased  with  her. 

Her  own  mother  visited  her  occasionally  during  term 
time;  but  I  do  not  remember  a  single  instance  of  her 
having  been  kept  at  home,  during  the  seven  years  she 
was  at  school,  to  the  detriment  of  her  regular  school 
duties. 

In  comparing  the  past  with  the  present  I  can  not  but 
remember  how  perfectly  satisfied  the  girls  of  twenty  and 
thirty  years  ago  were,  though  accustomed  to  every  indul- 
gence, with  the  systematic  regularity  of  our  home  school, 
and  with  their  plain  but  wholesome  food.  How  much 
less  they  seemed  to  covet  sweetmeats  and  sugar-plums! 
True,  then,  as  now,  there  were  found  unthinking  mothers 
who  kept  their  children  gorged  with  confectionery,  thus 
rendering  them  gourmands,  and  stupefying  the  intellect. 

The  paths  of  Polly  Monroe  and  Sarah  Dubberly  ran 
parallel  for  many  years.  Polly  was  the  third  daughter 
of  Judge  Monroe,  of  Frankfort.  T\vo  sisters  had  pre- 
ceded her  at  school.  Thus  she  was  no  stranger  when  she 
came  to  us!  and  though  but  nine  years  of  age  she  walked 
as  naturally  into  the  school -room  as  if  she  knew  her 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  405 

place  by  intuition,  and  from  that  moment  she  continued 
to  be  every  body's  pleasure,  and  in  nobody's  way. 

Years  have  rolled  by  since  I  first  became  acquainted 
with  Judge  Monroe's  family,  bound  to  them  by  the 
strongest  ties  of  affection — my  life-long  friends  and  pa- 
trons. I  must  linger  awhile  over  the  pleasing  scenes  so 
intimately  connected  with  them.  Widely  known  as  one 
of  the  most  delightful  families  to  visit,  none  ever  min- 
gled socially  or  intimately  in  the  family  without  cherish- 
ing a  lively  and  pleasant  recollection  of  all  its  members. 

Mrs.  Monroe  was  a  daughter  of  Governor  Adair,  and 
shared  largely  in  the  well-known  tact  and  ability  of  that 
family  to  render  themselves  useful  and  agreeable.  I  found 
in  her  a  kindred  spirit,  and  we  visited  each  other  upon 
terms  of  the  closest  intimacy.  All  of  Governor  Adair's 
daughters  were  charming  women — some  of  them  remark- 
able for  their  intellectual  attainments,  and  gifted  with  fine 
conversational  powers.  A  clear,  strong  current  of  good 
sense,  and  a  sparkling  effervescence,  were  the  distinguish- 
ing characteristics  of  these  agreeable  women. 

From  Mrs.  Adair  and  Mrs.  Monroe  I  learned  some 
interesting  facts  connected  with  the  life  of  Rev.  Valentine 
Cook  —  a  pioneer  Methodist  preacher  who  went  forth, 
like  Abraham,  at  the  call  of  God,  ' '  not  knowing  whither 
he  went," — one  of  that  noble  army  of  self-sacrificing  men 
who  could  sing,  in  spirit  and  in  truth, 

"No  foot  of  land  do  I  possess, 
No  cottage  in  this  wilderness." 

He  literally  obeyed  the  Savior's  command,  setting 
forth  on  his  itinerancy  without  money  or  scrip,  yet  never 
lacking.  The  Lord  provided,  and  he  was  a  welcome 
guest  in  any  house  that  he  had  once  visited  as  a  messes 
ger  from  heaven.  He  was  eminently  fitted  for  the  work 


406  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

of  an  itinerant  in  those  days, — possessing  an  iron  frame 
which  could  endure  any  amount  of  fatigue,  a  strength 
and  freshness  of  mind  which  nothing  seemed  to  impair, 
and  entire  devotion  to  his  calling.  He  preached  and 
prayed  as  if  a  live  coal  from  the  altar  had  just  touched  his 
lips;  and  though  he  carried  all  the  energies  of  his  soul 
and  of  his  gigantic  mind  into  the  pulpit  he  never  de- 
claimed ;  and  yet  there  was  the  earnestness  of  inspiration 
in  his  tender,  manly  face,  and  a  self-forgetting  enthusiasm 
that  carried  conviction  to  the  hearts  of  his  hearers.  He 
is  described  as  having  distinctly  marked  and  well-formed 
features,  forehead  broad  and  full,  strong  gray  eyes,  ex- 
pressive of  firmness  of  character,  and  a  very  large  mouth, 
which  when  open  displayed  a  full  set  of  fine  teeth.  Thus 
his  very  appearance  introduced  him  favorably  to  strangers. 

His  connection  with  Governor  Adair's  family,  which 
ripened  into  the  strongest  friendship,  arose  from  the  cir- 
cumstance of  his  having  been  employed  as  a  teacher  for 
his  daughters;  and  such  were  the  benefits  reaped  by 
them  from  Mr.  Cook's  intellectual  and  religious  training 
that  much  of  their  superiority  was  attributable  to  these 
advantages,  and  he  was  ever  spoken  of  with  love  and 
gratitude  by  the  whole  family. 

An  anecdote  related  to  me  by  Mrs.  Monroe  shows 
how  deeply  abstracted  he  was  when  rapt  in  religious 
contemplation.  A  revival  was  going  on  at  Harrodsburg, 
a  few  miles  from  the  Governor's  residence,  and  crowds 
were  in  attendance  from  all  the  surrounding  country.  It 
was  beautiful  Summer  weather,  and  the  moon  was  at  her 
full.  Mrs.  Adair  said,  one  morning: 

"Bring  some  of  your  friends  home  with  you  to- 
night, Mr.  Cook,  and  give  them  a  quiet  rest.  We  shall 
close  the  front  part  of  the  house,  but  leave  the  back 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  407 

door    open,    so    that    you    can    enter    without    disturb- 
ing us." 

It  was  after  midnight  when  the  meeting  closed.  Mr. 
Cook  and  two  of  his  friends  walked  out  from  town  to 
the  residence  of  Governor  Adair.  The  moon  was  gliding 
on  her  way  through  masses  of  fleecy  clouds.  He  left 
his  friends  on  the  front  porch,  whilst  he  went  around  with 
a  view  of  entering  through  the  back  door  to  admit  them. 
The  friends  waited  and  wraited.  More  than  half  an  hour 
elapsed,  when  the  ladies  above  heard  the  deep  rich  tones 
of  his  clear  voice  ringing  out  amid  the  surrounding 
silence, — 

"In  a  chariot  of  fire,  my  soul  mounted  higher, 
And  the  moon,  it  was  under  my  feet." 

Presently  the  awakened  ducks  and  the  geese  and  the 
whole  poultry-yard  joined  in  full  chorus.  A  hand  lightly 
touched  his  shoulder,  and  a  gentle  voice  said : 

' '  Why,  Mr.  Cook,  have  you  forgotten  the  gentlemen 
you  left  in  the  porch?" 

"True,  true,"  he  exclaimed,  recollecting  himself,  and, 
walking  hastily  into  the  house  with  Mrs.  Adair,  he  found 
the  gentlemen  already  admitted  and  enjoying  a  laugh  at 
his  expense. 

Mr.  Cook's  faith,  like  that  of  Moses,  seemed  all- 
prevailing;  the  sanctified  light  of  the  Christian  religion 
which  shone  into  his  soul  cleared  up  the  dark  enigmas 
of  life.  His  daughter  was  once  sick  many  miles  distant 
from  her  home.  A  courier  was  dispatched  for  the 
father,  "Come  quickly,  your  daughter  is  extremely  ill." 
He  started  within  an  hour  on  horseback,  accompanied 
by  his  wife — the  way  was  long  and  tedious.  A  painful 
silence  was  observed  for  many  miles,  when  Mr.  C.  said, 
"Wife,  let  us  get  down  and  pray."  The  horses  were 


408  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

fastened  by  the  wayside  while  they  went  a  little  way  off, 
and,  kneeling  down,  prayed  fervently  with  many  groans 
and  tears.  As  they  arose  to  pursue  their  journey,  he 
said,  "Our  daughter  will  not  die,  but  live — the  Lord 
has  told  me  so."  They  went  on  their  way,  and  having 
reached  the  end  of  their  journey  the  mother  asked,  as  she 
entered  the  house,  "How  is  Mary?"  "She  is  improv- 
ing." And  it  came  to  pass  that  she  was  soon  able  to 
return  home  with  her  parents.  God  made  him  a  useful 
and  an  honorable  man.  He  fed  thousands  of  souls  with 
the  bread  of  life,  and,  like  his  Divine  Master,  preached 
in  the  wilderness  and  solitary  places  of  the  earth. 

Among  all  the  school-girl  friendships  I  remember 
none  more  striking  than  that  of  Mary  Ann  Dickinson 
and  Anna  Monroe.  Mary  Ann  was  a  quiet,  thoughtful 
girl,  prepossessing  in  appearance,  with  a  fair  face  and  a 
fine  forehead.  Sympathetic  and  cheerful,  but  never  bois- 
terous,— sometimes,  indeed,  her  equanimity  of  temper 
annoyed  me — she  enjoyed  success  and  endured  defeat 
with  the  same  composure.  Anna  was  quite  the  reverse. 
Each  was  perfectly  independent  in  character  and  senti- 
ment, yet  strongly  attracted  to  the  other  upon  first 
acquaintance.  Their  fresh,  pure,  and  unsophisticated 
souls  were  soon  knit  together  like  those  of  Jonathan  and 
David,  Anna's  ardent  nature,  her  vivacity,  and  some- 
times too  great  volubility,  led  her  into  difficulties,  from 
which  Mary  Ann  was  ever  ready  to  assist  in  extricating 
her.  If  Anna  leaped  at  the  stars  and  fastened  in  the 
mud,  her  friend  was  prepared  to  help  her  out.  Theirs 
was  the  true,  steadfast  love  of  warm  hearts,  continued 
through  the  years  of  girlhood  onward  to  maturer  life. 

"Two  bright  spirits  blended 
Like  sister  flowers  of  one  sweet  shade." 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  409 

We  were  early  risers  in  those  days,  and  the  girls  were 
required  to  be  up  as  early  on  Saturday  and  Sunday  morn- 
ings as  on  other  days  of  the  week.  One  unfortunate 
Saturday  morning  the  two  friends  were  missed  from  their 
accustomed  seats  at  morning  prayers.  After  breakfast 
they  were  called  upon  to  give  an  account  of  themselves, 
properly  rebuked,  and  warned  as  to  the  future.  As 
they  left  the  room  one  was  overheard  to  say,  ' '  I  expected 
Mrs.  Tevis  to  punish  me;  I  wish  she  had,  for  I  was  pre- 
pared to  bear  any  thing  rather  than  that  sad  and  reproach- 
ful look  with  which  she  admonished  us."  "Yes,"  was 
the  reply,  "and  I  can  never  be  so  lazy  again."  The 
Sunday  morning  following  was  very  cold;  a  cheerful, 
good  fire  had  been  burning  all  night  in  my  room  for  the 
sake  of  a  little  nursling  in  the  cradle.  The  clock  in  the 
corner  of  the  room  striking  four  awakened  me  from  a 
sound  sleep,  and,  opening  my  eyes,  I  saw  two  figures, 
one  on  each  side  of  the  fire-place,  reading  silently  from  a 
large  volume.  I  rubbed  my  eyes,  thinking  I  must  be 
still  asleep.  Not  a  breath  of  noise  was  afloat,  and  they 
sat  as  immovable  as  statues  until  I  exclaimed,  "Who  are 
you,  and  what  do  you  want?"  "It  is  Mary  Ann  and 
Anna.  We  are  reading  our  Bibles  and  trying  to  make 
up  for  yesterday — won't  you  forgive  it?  and  pray  do 
not  look  sorry  at  us  any  more."  The  fault  was  fully 
atoned  for. 

Among  the  crowds  of  young  ladies  that  have  been 
taught  music  in  this  institution,  I  have  known  but  few 
that  kept  it  up  after  leaving  school,  and  especially  after 
marriage.  Mary  Ann  Dickinson  was  one  of  the  few; 
music  continued  with  her  a  passion.  I  have  known  her 
to  sit  down  and  play  on  the  piano  with  as  much  interest 
after  she  was  the  mother  of  many  children  as  when  a 


410  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

blooming  school-girl;  and  even  up  to  the  present  time, 
though  a  grandmother,  her  music  is  not  neglected,  and 
amid  the  roar  of  the  bounding  billows  of  the  Pacific,  in 
Oregon,  where  many  years  ago  her  home  was  fixed, 
almost  beyond  the  boundaries  of  civilization,  the  notes 
of  her  piano  are  heard.  It  was  the  first  piece  of  fur- 
niture unpacked  and  assigned  its  place — even  before  the 
cooking-stove.  How  I  long  for  the  time  to  arrive  when, 
music  shall  form  an  essential  part  of  every  American 
household!  Many  lackadaisical,  sentimental  girls  waste 
hours  in  trying  to  express  their  delicate  thoughts  in 
poetic  numbers,  and  yet  are  not  willing  to  cultivate  a 
taste  for  music  either  vocal  or  instrumental.  Music  is 
heart-painting;  its  task  is  to  attune  the  mind,  to  arouse 
the  feelings,  and  to  express  the  play  of  the  sensibilities. 
I  must  confess,  however,  to  an  utter  want  of  appreciation 
of  the  modern  and  fashionable  taste  displayed  in  the 
execution  of  long  and  difficult  compositions.  I  feel  like 
a  young  friend  of  mine  who  asked  his  cousin  to  favor 
him  with  some  music.  He  endured  a  long  and,  perhaps, 
a  finely  executed  piece,  then  imupulsively  exclaimed, 
"Cousin  Mary,  do  you  inflict  that  upon  every  body  who 
asks  you  to  play?"  That  only  is  music  that  touches  the 
heart  and  fills  the  eye  with  tears.  The  wealth  of  melody 
and  harmony  contained  in  those  old  Scotch  airs  and  other 
sweet,  touching  ballads  of  the  same  character,  is  won- 
derful. They  are  ever  fresh,  ever  pleasing  for  those  who 
have  a  true  soul  for  music.  It  is  greatly  to  be  regretted 
that  so  few  of  our  best  performers  give  them  a  proper 
appreciation.  Girls  may  scream  Italian  songs,  and  render 
an  uninitiated  ear  frantic  with  elaborate  instrumental 
pieces;  but,  when  asked  for  one  of  Burns's  sweet  ballads, 
unless  they  happen  to  be  the  fashion  of  the  day,  will 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  411 

reply,  "I  don't  sing  them,  they  don't  suit  my  voice, 
and  they  are  absolutely  out  of  date."  Can  music  that 
thrills  the  soul  ever  become  stale?  Should  such  ever  be 
out  of  fashion?  No,  not  until  feeling  and  sentiment  are 
out  of  fashion,  and  we  become  mere  moving,  breathing 
automatons;  yet  so  seldom  do  we  hear  those  simple 
airs,  replete  with  melody,  that  'tis  really  refreshing  to 
find  a  performer  whose  appreciation  of  the  beautiful  is  in 
harmony  with  the  charming  simplicity  of  nature,  rather 
than  the  unnatural  flights  and  rich  confusion  termed 
music  in  the  fashionable  world. 


412  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

"'"T^EACH  your  pupils  Natural  History,"  said  a  learned 
A  and  distinguished  Doctor  of  Divinity,  who  pre- 
sided over  a  certain  college  in  the  West  forty  years  ago ; 
"that's  enough  for  girls.  You  are  in  advance  of  the 
age;  let  Chemistry  alone." 

And  is  not  Chemistry  a  branch  of  Natural  Science? 
It  certainly  is  a  subject  calculated  to  train  both  the  mind 
and  the  hands  of  young  people  to  habits  of  industry, 
regularity,  and  order;  and  the  necessity  of  carrying  on 
the  different  steps  of  an  operation  in  a  systematic,  cau- 
tious manner,  must  have  a  corresponding  influence  upon 
persons  of  the  most  careless  disposition.  Chemistry  is 
especially  requisite  for  the  successful  progress  of  our 
inquiries  and  researches  into  the  nature  of  those  things 
whence  we  derive  the  means  of  our  comfort,  our  happi- 
ness, our  luxuries,  our  health,  and  even  our  existence; 
for  in  examining  the  various  objects  which  compose  the 
mineral,  vegetable,  and  animal  kingdoms,  it  is  essential. 
The  Pharmacopoeia  is  but  a  collection  of  productive 
experiments,  containing  instructions  for  preparing  the 
chemical  substances  employed  in  medicine — thus  every 
intelligent  girl,  who  has  well  learned  the  A  B  C's  only 
of  this  widely  extended  science,  is  furnished  with  the 
means  W  preparing  a  domestic  pharmacopoeia  which  will 
prevent  that  quackery  so  often  found  in  families — leading 
to  danger  and  sometimes  to  death.  Let  the  mother 
understand  that  the  "flowers  of  sulphur"  and  "arsenic," 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  413 

though  so  much  resembling  each  other  by  candlelight, 
are  widely  different  in  nature  and  composition,  and  she 
will  not  leave  them  side  by  side  unlabeled,  neither  will 
she  be  liable  to  administer  a  tea-spoonful  of  deadly  poison 
instead  of  a  gentle  alterative. 

I  think  I  hazard  nothing  in  asserting  that  a  large  pro- 
portion of  the  girls  who  have  studied  chemistry  under 
my  tuition,  even  during  the  brief  period  of  their  school 
career,  were  sufficiently  acquainted  with  its  elementary 
and  practical  principles  to  render  it  useful  to  them  in 
after  life.  Many  found  it  the  most  delightful  of  their 
studies,  practically  illustrated  as  it  was  in  our  laboratory, 
and  carried  away  with  them  a  knowledge  of  poisons  and 
antidotes  that  could  only  thus  have  been  obtained. 
Chemical  experiments  upon  a  small  scale  form  an  admi- 
rable exercise  for  young  students,  and  girls  may  acquire 
from  them  much  valuable  information.  They  have  the 
further  beneficial  effect  of  habituating  them  to  careful 
manipulation.  Ignorance  is  not  bliss,  in  a  case  where  a 
mistake  in  the  nature  of  a  drug  may  endanger  life.  It 
is  wonderful  what  a  vast  number  of  substances  used 
in  every-day  life  are  brought  within  the  limits  of  this 
science.  All  the  processes  of  baking,  brewing,  and  most 
of  the  culinary  arts  are  chemical  operations.  We  do 
not  need  an  extensive  laboratory  to  begin  with ;  materials 
in  small  quantities  are  sufficient  to  enable  us  to  ascertain 
their  properties  and  reactions  on  other  substances;  met- 
als, salts,  acids,  alkalies,  and  other  commodities  of  the 
druggist  all  yield  to  productive  experiments  and  give 
valuable  information  to  the  manipulator.  In  an  experi- 
mental science,  where  truth  lies  within  our  reach,  we 
should  make  use  of  our  senses  and  judge  for  ourselves. 
Our  business  in  teaching  chemistry  to  girls  is  to  make 

27 


4i 4  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

them  acquainted  with  what  is  already  known  and  deter- 
mined by  the  experiments  of  others ;  and  if  they  pursue 
the  study  with  only  a  moderate  degree  of  zeal,  they 
must  add  something  daily  to  their  stock  of  intelligence. 
Chemistry  ought  to  be  a  stated  branch  of  a  liberal  edu- 
cation in  every  female  school.  The  variety  of  unrecorded 
facts  which  continually  strike  the  eye  of  an  industrious 
experimenter  is  indeed  surprising;  and  the  science  is  so 
entirely  founded  upon  experiment,  that  no  one  can 
understand  it  fully  without  manipulation.  The  hearing 
of  lectures  and  the  reading  of  books  will  be  of  little  ben- 
efit without  this  experimental  instruction. 

It  has  long  been  a  subject  of  the  deepest  interest  to 
me,  and  has  occupied  a  considerable  portion  of  my  time 
as  a  teacher  for  more  than  fifty  years.  Slow  but  sure  in 
its  uprising  from  chaotic  darkness,  its  startling  develop- 
ments have  done  much  to  prove  that  ''man  need  not  die 
before  his  time  comes."  Unveiling  the  hidden  truths  of 
the  materia  medica,  it  has  placed  in  the  hands  of  edu 
cated  physicians  remedial  agents  by  which  health  is  pro- 
moted and  life  prolonged. 

I  do  not  mean  to  convey  the  idea  that  synthetic 
chemistry  will,  in  its  progress,  reverse  the  process  of  final 
dissolution,  or  reveal  an  elixir  that  will  render  man  im- 
pervious to  disease,  or  shield  him  from  the  dangers 
that  stand  thick  around  him.  No,  that  power  belongs 
but  to  the  Creator;  and  the  sublime  chemistry  of  the 
Bible  alone  reveals  the  process  by  which  the  desolation 
of  a  thousand  generations  shall  in  a  moment  be  repaired, 
and  heaven  enriched  with  new  forms  of  beauty,  repro- 
duced immortal,  from  the  ruins  of  the  tomb. 

But  is  not  health  a  virtue  so  far  as  it  is  in  our  power 
to  preserve  it?  Does  not  a  knowledge  of  its  require- 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  415 

ments  multiply  our  comforts  and  extend  the  sphere  of 
our  usefulness?  Should  we  merely  satisfy  our  curiosity 
by  seeing  the  instrument  and  watching  the  ringers  that 
play  upon  it,  knowing  nothing  ourselves  of  the  mysteri- 
ous essences  that  constitute  the  vital  harmony  of  the  whole? 

We  turn  over  page  after  page  in  the  great  volume  of 
nature;  we  search  for  the  hidden  glories  of  the  mighty 
mind,  and  seek  to  grapple  with  its  lofty  aspirations;  we 
bow  down  before  the  gifted  impulses  of  genius,  and  strive 
to  make  progress  in  every  other  science,  but  measure- 
ably  neglect  this  keystone  in  the  arch.  Chemistry,  like 
astronomy,  is  replete  with  wonders.  While  the  latter 
exhibits  nature  in  the  aggregate  and  stupendous  massive- 
ness  and  magnitude  of  her  empire  full  of  grandeur  and 
sublimity,  the  former  descends  to  the  analysis  of  her 
multitudinous  organizations,  in  the  minutest  particulars, 
and  unfolds  to  view  that  secret  laboratory  where  daily, 
hourly,  and  even  momently,  she  is  engaged  in  producing 
her  almost  magical  transformations.  Truly,  here  is  great 
power!  It  brings  up  the  pearl  from  its  hidden  depths 
and  reveals  to  the  daylight  and  to  the  rapt  gaze  of  the 
admirer  all  its  beauties.  It  bursts  the  rocky  incasement, 
and  lets  forth  the  imprisoned  brilliancy  of  the  diamond 
upon  the  world.  In  short,  it  throws  wide  open  the  capa- 
cious storehouse  of  earth,  and  brings  to  light  and  to  use 
all  its  precious  and  priceless  treasures. 

The  well-remembered  year  of  1833  was  one  of  general 
gloom  with  us.  Every  city,  village,  and  neighborhood 
throughout  Kentucky  was  visited  by  cholera.  The  rich- 
est portions  of  the  State,  and  particularly  the  low  lands, 
were  fearfully  scourged.  Death  was  upon  the  highways, 
and  terror  in  our  streets.  There  was  no  use  fleeing  from 
one  place  to  another.  The  dark  wings  of  the  destroying 


416  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

angel  were  outspread  over  the  whole  country.  None 
knew  when  the  next  vial  might  be  poured  forth. 

When  the  cholera  commenced  its  fearful  ravages  on 
the  Ohio,  we  vainly  hoped  it  would  only  skirt  the  river 
shores,  and  that  we,  being  thirty  miles  inland,  might 
escape.  It  was  midsummer,  and  it  seemed  difficult  to 
look  up  at  the  sky  above  our  heads  so  bright  in  its  blue 
serenity,  and  at  our  picturesque  surroundings,  over  which 
swept  a  breeze  seemingly  so  health-inspiring,  and  believe 
that  suffering  and  death  could  be  near  us.  As  soon, 
however,  as  the  plague  began  to  shake  his  dusky  spear 
over  Louisville,  we  dismissed  our  day-school  and  asked 
the  speedy  removal  of  our  boarding  pupils.  A  few  only 
remained,  and  these  from  the  far  South,  it  being  unsafe 
to  travel  on  the  Mississippi  River. 

The  Southern  and  Western  people  were  at  that  time 
inveterate  calomel  eaters,  absolutely  thinking  it  a  specific 
for  every  disease  under  the  sun ;  and  many  a  young  dis- 
ciple of  ^Esculapius  started  out  to  seek  his  fortune, 
armed  with  a  bottle  of  calomel,  nothing  more;  this  was 
his  panacea. 

A  case  in  point  will  show  the  Cimmerian  darkness 
which  then  prevailed  in  the  valley  of  the  Mississippi  in 
reference  to  the  use  of  this  metallic  poison.  I  found  one 
day  under  an  apple-tree,  a  young  girl  of  seventeen  munch- 
ing the  unripe  fruit  at  a  fearful  rate.  I  reprimanded  her 
sharply  for  this  imprudence. 

"Do  you  not  know  the  cholera  is  abroad  in  the  land?" 

"Yes,  ma'am,"  she  replied,  "but  I'm  not  afraid;  I 
have  a  bottle  of  calomel  in  my  trunk." 

"Where  did  you  get  it?" 

"I  brought  it  from  home,  and  know  exactly  how  much 
to  take  if  these  apples  make  me  sick." 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  417 

"What!  without  the  advice  of  a  physician?" 

"Yes;  I  often  take  it  at  home  for  indigestion.  Ma 
never  allows  any  of  us  to  go  from  home  without  a  small 
vial  of  it." 

I  listened  with  p.erfect  astonishment,  and,  as  I  gazed 
at  her  pale  face,  now  flushed  with  a  glow  of  excitement, 
I  thought  of  Moore's  remark  about  American  ladies, 
"Roses  in  a  grave-yard."  Her  coral  lips,  when  parted, 
displayed  a  set  of  decayed  teeth.  She  was  really  sick 
the  next  day  in  consequence  of  her  cramming,  and 
I  administered,  not  calomel,  but  salt  and  water — an 
effectual  remedy  for  such  indigestion. 

The  deprecated  evil  paid  Shelbyville  but  a  short  visit, 
and  though  it  raged  fearfully  for  a  week  or  ten  days,  only 
eleven  deaths  occurred;  and  two  or  three  of  these  were 
the  effects  of  calomel,  not  cholera.  We  lost  the  youngest 
and  darling  of  our  flock — a  lovely  little  boy  twenty-two 
months  old,  reduced  in  a  few  hours  from  a  sweet,  fair- 
faced  child  to  one  having  the  withered  appearance  of  old 
age,  with  the  ashy  hue  peculiar  to  that  blighting  plague. 
On  the  same  night  a  bright  boy  of  fourteen  passed  from 
my  brother's  household.  The  latter  had  recovered  from 
an  attack  of  cholera,  but  the  calomel,  administered  to 
him  in  large  quantities,  left  its  deadly  impress  upon  his 
system,  and  destroyed  all  chance  of  his  recovery. 

During  the  time  it  prevailed  among  us  we  were  so 
strictly  dieted  that  the  finest  fruits  and  vegetables,  which 
were  unusually  abundant,  perished  where  they  grew,  be- 
ing prohibited  articles  of  food.  The  days  were  intensely 
hot,  but  we  dared  not  enjoy  the  cool  night  breeze, 
though  the  bright  moonlight  was  so  inviting,  for  the 
physician  decided  that  the  night  air  was  death. 

When  Summer  had  gone,  and  the  atmosphere  no  longer 


418  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

hung  heavy  with  the  odor  of  fruits  and  flowers,  and  the 
fresh  cool  breezes  of  Autumn  swept  over  our  country — 
hope,  like  "a  sunbeam  on  a  sullen  sea,"  imparted  cheer- 
fulness to  every  heart.  The  whole  community  felt  a 
sense  of  relief,  as  if  a  weight  had  been  lifted,  and  man 
met  his  fellow-man  Avith  a  more  cheerful  countenance; 
and  those  that  were  left  were  bound  together  by  stronger 
ties  of  affection  and  friendship.  Like  mariners  who 
survive  a  sinking  wreck,  there  were  daily  congratulations 
and  a  constant  intercourse,  even  between  those  who  had 
hitherto  been  almost  strangers. 

The  Indian  Summer  of  1833  is  embalmed  in  my 
memory  as  one  of  great  beauty.  It  lingered  longer  than 
usual,  crowning  the  woods  with  intenser  hues,  making  up 
a  wealth  of  beauty  and  of  glory,  upon  which  the  eye 
might  revel.  A  dreamy  warmth  invested  every  thing 
with  a  palpable  loveliness.  The  whole  earth  seemed 
transfigured  by  the  soft  amber  drapery  of  that  charming 
season.  The  clouds,  as  they  came  floating  toward  the 
horizon,  appeared  through  the  hazy  atmosphere  as  if 
woven  of  fluttering  gauze  spangled  with  silver  and  gold. 
This  lasted  until  the  middle  of  November. 

Our  Fall  term  had  opened  prosperously,  and,  amidst 
the  busy  hum  of  school-life,  we  were  forgetting  the 
sorrowful  past,  over  which  the  remorseless  waves  of  time , 
would  soon  have  closed  completely,  had  not  the  dark 
shadow  of  death  again  fallen  upon  our  threshold.  In  the 
latter  part  of  November,  after  a  week's  illness,  my 
beloved  mother  was  taken  from  us — taken  to  that  glo- 
rious and  happy  home  toward  which  her  footsteps  had 
been  tending  for  so  many  years.  Though  a  ripe  Chris- 
tian, and  presenting  a  beautiful  example  of  the  self- 
educating  power  of  a  good  life,  she  was  not  weary  of 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  419 

life,  but  ready  to  give  it  up  when  asked  for,  having 
learned  that  there  is  no  absolute  rest  except  in  submis- 
sion to  the  will  of  God. 

The  sunlight  of  affection  shone  softly  upon  her  declin- 
ing years,  and  her  last  days  were  among  the  most  quiet 
and  peaceful  of  her  life.  How  wonderful  and  beautiful 
that  calmness  and  resignation  appointed  to  the  Christian 
believer  in  the  hour  of  dissolution!  It  is  an  easy  thing 
to  look  upon  the  King  of  Terrors  at  a  distance,  but  quite 
another  to  face  him  in  the  sharp  conflict  of  death.  How 
impressive  a  lesson,  and  what  a  privilege  to  see  a  fol- 
lower of  the  blessed  Redeemer  sinking-  into  the  cold 
river  without  a  shudder,  as  he  catches,  through  the 
rifted  clouds,  the  refracted  beam  of  a  Savior's  love !  So 
died  this  dear  mother,  and  yet  it  was  hard  to  give  her 
up.  Her  vacant  chair  could  never  be  filled;  nearly  the 
whole  journey  of  my  life  had  been  made  by  her  side. 
The  past  buries  in  oblivion  all  things  else,  before  it 
effaces  those  lessons  imprinted  upon  our  minds,  ere  we 
had  passed  the  rose-entwined  boundaries  of  childhood. 

I  remember  my  mother  as  a  young,  handsome  woman, 
before  time  had  bleached  her  raven'  hair,  or  left  a  wrinkle 
on  her  brow;  before  sorrow  had  dimmed  the  brilliancy 
of  those  clear  and  truthful  eyes,  than  which  I  thought 
there  could  not  be  such  another  pair  in  the  wide  world. 
Her  finely  molded  arm  and  exquisite  hand  were  never- 
ceasing  objects  of  admiration.  From  her  I  learned  to 
love  the  Bible  and  its  precious  truths.  She  aimed  to 
inspire  all  her  children  with  a  love  of  truth  and  a  hatred 
of  vice,  and  never  placed  an  example  before  them,  that 
they  might  not  imitate. 

How  often  now  do  I,  in  dreams,  visit  my  early  home 
among  the  mountains  of  Virginia,  and  wander  in  fancy 


420  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

among  those  enchanting  scenes,  the  form  of  my  mother 
hovering  around  me  like  an  angel  of  mercy!  Oh,  those 
dead  and  bygone  years!  With  what  a  yearning  does  my 
heart  call  them  back!  What  pleading  arms  do  I  stretch 
out  to  them,  so  full  are  they  of  all  that  is  dearest  and 
brightest — so  hard  is  it  to  let  them  go! 

Home,  the  consolation  and  anchor  of  the  world-wearied 
soul, — and  what  is  home  without  a  mother?  I  loved  my 
mother,  and  for  no  consideration  would  I,  while  she  lived, 
have  dashed  her  cup  with  one  drop  of  sorrow;  yet  when 
she  had  gone  I  would  have  given  worlds  to  call  her  back, 
that  I  might  fall  at  her  feet  and  ask  pardon  for  all  omis- 
sions, and  renew  my  efforts  to  made  her  happy  and  com- 
fortable. I  have  learned  to  think  of  her  now  as  at  rest. 
Oh,  if  we  could  always  thus  remember  our  buried  ones — 
think  of  their  white  robes  and  tuneful  harps,  of  the  spirit- 
wreaths  that  crown  their  shadowless  brows — of  the  hands 
that  bore  the  cross,  now  lifted  up  before  the  great  white 
throne — -think  how  the  feet  that  faltered  along  a  rough 
and  darkened  path  now  tread  the  streets  of  that  Golden 
City  where  they  have  no  need  of  the  sun,  nor  of  the 
moon,  for  the  Lord  is  the  light  thereof, — we  should  rejoice 
that  they  are  there,  our  beautiful  and  blessed  dead!  And 
in  the  hereafter,  when  the  sun  of  our  own  life  goes  down 
behind  the  mountains  of  eternity  we  shall  join  them  in 
that  land  of  the  living;  and  when  the  sea  of  death  is 
passed  it  matters  not  how  mournfully  its  billows  once 
dashed  upon  the  shores  of  time. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  421 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

I  HAVE  but  little  faith  in  itinerant  teachers  and  lecturers 
who  profess  to  impart  a  knowledge  of  the  sciences  in 
a  set  number  of  lessons,  and  have  rarely  ever  patronized 
such.  It  is  insufferable  pedantry,  if  not  positive  igno- 
rance to  propose  teaching  Grammar  by  charts  alone. 
Astronomy  by  magic -lantern  exhibitions,  or  to  pretend 
to  impart  a  sufficient  knowledge  of  any  modern  language 
in  two  weeks'  reading.  The  eye  may  open  and  the 
panorama  pass  before  it,  but  the  impression  vanishes. 
The  picture  must  be  touched  and  retouched  until  deeply 
engraven  upon  the  mind. 

A  few  exceptions  I  have  known,  however,  where  per- 
manent good  was  derived  from  these  meteoric  lights.  I 
have  a  pleasing  remembrance  of  a  Mr.  Mulky,  who  lec- 
tured many  years  ago,  upon  the  subject  of  Orthoepy,  in 
Shelbyville.  From  early  childhood  I  had  been  drilled 
into  a  correct  pronunciation  of  the  English  language, 
besides  having  associated  much  in  after  life  with  the  best 
speakers  and  writers.  I  treated  Mr.  Mulky,  at  first,  with 
great  coolness ;  but  after  having  conversed  with  him  freely 
upon  the  subject,  and  examined  his  unfolded  plan,  I 
found  there  was  yet  room  for  improvement.  My  con- 
stant practice  through  life  has  been  "to  listen  and  to 
learn."  Solomon  deigned  to  receive  instruction  from  a 
bee,  and  none  of  us  are  Solomons. 

I  was  also  well  acquainted  with  Professor  Bronson, 
decidedly  the  best  elocutionist  I  ever  knew.  His  reading, 


422  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

I  might  well  say  dramatic  impersonation,  was  so  charac- 
teristic, so  artistically  complete  and  telling.  Then,  too, 
his  voice  was  so  flexible,  its  intonation  so  perfect,  that  he 
charmed  his  auditors  into  enthusiastic  admiration.  When 
he  lectured,  it  was  like  listening  to  fine  music  —  every 
note,  syllable,  and  word  carried  its  full  force.  His  style 
was  beautiful,  and  enriched  with  gems  of  wisdom  selected 
from  the  treasured  stores  of  his  extensive  reading.  Mr. 
Bronson  was  an  earnest,  aspiring,  industrious  man,  his 
eminence  in  his  profession  being  the  result  of  untiring 
energy.  He  possessed  the  power  of  giving  graceful 
utterance  to  his  emotions,  and  thus  produced  in  others 
the  sensations  that  thrilled  his  own  bosom  with  ecstasy. 
Full  of  the  poetry  of  life  and  thought,  ardent  and  impul- 
sive, he  became  morally  powerful  and  intellectually  emi- 
nent; but  his  enthusiatic  devotion  to  the  science  of 
Elocution,  upon  which  he  wrote,  lectured,  and  talked, 
sometimes  led  him  beyond  plain  matter  of  fact. 

It  is  about  as  difficult  to  make  a  man  unlearn  his  errors 
as  his  knowledge.  Mai-information  is  more  hopeless  than 
non- information;  for  error  is  always  more  busy  than 
ignorance.  The  latter  is  a  blank  sheet  on  which  we  may 
write;  but  the  former  is  a  scribbled  one,  from  which  we 
must  first  erase.  Ignorance  is  contented  to  stand  still, 
with  her  back  to  the  truth;  but  Error  is  more  presump- 
tuous, and  proceeds  in  the  same  direction.  Ignorance 
has  no  light,  but  Error  follows  a  false  one.  The  conse- 
quence is  that  Error,  when  she  retraces  her  steps,  has 
farther  to  go  before  she  can  arrive  at  the  truth  than 
Ignorance.  Hence  the  difficulty  of  attempting  to  teach 
children  to  spell,  pronounce,  or  read  correctly,  unless  you 
begin  with  the  Alphabet.  Now,  our  Alphabet  has  only 
twenty -six  characters  to  represent  thirty -six  sounds. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  423 

Until  this  deficiency  is  supplied,  children  ought  to  be 
thoroughly  taught  to  utter  the  different  sounds  of  the 
vowels  as  if  each  had  its  written  name. 

I  think  both  Mr.  Mulky  and  Mr.  Bronson  were  men 
of  peculiar  tact,  taste,  and  ability ;  but  they  never  received 
the  patronage  they  deserved.  Error  and  prejudice  in 
favor  of  the  "old  ways"  operated  against  them.  But 
the  drafts  which  true  genius  draws  upon  the  public, 
although  they  may  not  be  honored  as  soon  as  they  are 
due,  are  sure  to  be  paid  with  compound  interest  in 
the  end. 

"O  girls,"  exclaimed  a  rosy -cheeked  little  gypsy, 
running  against  a  knot  of  her  companions,  who  stood  in 
the  yard  trying  to  get  a  peep  at  the  new-comer,  "our 
new  music -teacher  has  come.  She  is  as  tall  as  a  grena- 
dier, but  does  not  look  as  if  she  ever  drank  a  pot  of 
beer.  There,  now!  don't  I  remember  Mother  Goose, — 
though  Mrs.  Tevis  says  I  never  recollect  any  thing?" 

"Capital  news,"  said  one.  "Does  she  look  good- 
humored?  I  hope  she  is  more  agreeable  than  that  cross 
old  bear,  Mr.  S.  If  she  is  not  I  '11  give  up  music,  or 
feign  sickness,  to  get  rid  of  my  lessons." 

"Nonsense!"  chimed  in  another;  "you  '11  do  no  such 
thing.  However,  she  looks  well,  notwithstanding  the 
reflection  of  this  cold,  gray,  February  sky." 

"Stop,"  said  a  third;  "don't  let  us  pass  judgment 
until  we  know  something  about  her." 

The  supper -bell  rang,  and  the  youthful  gossips,  min- 
gling with  their  companions,  followed  their  dignified 
teachers  into  the  .dining-room.  Miss  D.  sat  at  my  right 
hand,  all  the  time  fluttered  and  uncomfortable,  as  if  fully 
aware  of  the  glances  slyly  directed  towards  her  from 


424  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

every  part  of  the  table.  She  was  actually  running  the 
gauntlet,  and  they  were  taking  notes. 

As  soon  as  the  girls  were  released  from  the  table  they 
congregated  in  the  school -room  to  comment  upon  the 
'interesting  stranger,  glad  of  any  little  excitement  to 
break  the  monotony  of  boarding-school  life.  All  talked 
at  once;  there  were  no  listeners. 

As  I  was  entering  the  school-room  shortly  after,  for 
the  purpose  of  inviting  a  few  of  the  older  pupils  into  the 
parlor,  I  noticed  an  unusual  excitement  among  the  girls, 
and  paused  a  moment  unperceived  at  the  half-open  door. 
They  were  gathered  in  clusters,  conversing  with  animated 
gestures  upon  the  all-absorbing  topic  of  the  new  teacher. 

"I  hope  I  shall  like  her,"  said  a  bright -eyed  little 
girl.  "I  love  music  dearly,  and  I  would  rather  take 
lessons  from  a  nice  young  lady  than  a  cross  old  man." 

"I  don't  intend  to  try  to  like  her,"  chimed  in  a  fair- 
looking  girl,  as  she  pushed  back  the  silky  braids  of  light 
hair  from  her  alabaster  brow.  I  declare  this  humdrum 
school  life  is  insupportable.  I  am  tired  to  death  of  strict 
rules  and  watchful  teachers.  I  want  a  breeze." 

"You  may  do  as  you  please,"  said  one  of  my  good 
girls;  "but,  mind  what  I  tell  you,  the  rules  here,  in 
regard  to  respectful  obedience,  are  like  the  laws  of  the 
Medes  and  Persians." 

"Humph!  what  do  I  care  for  the  rules?  I  shall  take 
no  more  trouble  than  I  please.  I  am  sick  of  music,  any 
how;  and  all  teachers  are  hateful." 

"Hush!"  cried  another;  "make  the  best  of  it.  My 
motto  is,  Be  good,  be  industrious,  and  write  Wisdom  on 
the  wings  of  time." 

I  selected  a  few  of  the  best  performers  among  the 
older  pupils,  returned  to  the  parlor,  and  introduced  them 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  425 

to  Miss  D.,  who  entered  into  a  free  and  easy  conversa- 
tion with  them.  I  noticed  how  eagerly  they  listened, 
and  was  charmed'  with  the  simple  modesty  of  their  replies. 

Miss  D.  was  certainly  a  prepossessing  woman.  Her 
face,  in  repose,  wore  a  sad,  sweet  expression,  and  her 
fine  dark  eyes  were  radiant  with  feeling  and  intelligence. 
Presently  she  invited  one  of  the  girls  to  the  piano,  who 
sang  and  played  several  pieces,  aad  then  resigned  her 
place  to  one  of  the  best  performers  in  the  school.  She 
executed  one  or  two  of  her  most  brilliant  solos.  Then 
some  duets  followed,  and  the  girls  crowded  around,  beg- 
ging Miss  D.  to  favor  them  with  some  music  in  return. 
She  declined,  evincing  at  the  same  time  a  painful  embar- 
rassment which  brought  a  deep  blush  upon  her  face.  I 
should  not  perhaps  have  noticed  this,  as  blushes  had  been 
the  livery  of  the  evening,  had  not  Miss  D.  immediately 
requested  permission  to  retire,  on  the  plea  of  fatigue. 

It  was  late  at  night,  the  stars  had  long  been  keeping 
watch  in  the  quiet  skies,  and  yet  the  light  still  shone 
from  the  window  of  Miss  D. 's  room.  Fearing  she  might 
be  sick,  I  stepped  across  the  way,  and,  in  passing  the 
window,  caught  a  glimpse  of  her.  She  was  in  a  kneel- 
ing posture,  with  several  pieces  of  music  spread  out  be- 
fore her  on  the  carpet.  Her  hands  were  clasped  closely 
against  her  heart  as  if  to  quiet  its  throbbings.  Her  half- 
raised  face  wore  a  pale,  quiet,  resigned  look  of  intense 
suffering.  I  gently  tapped  at  the  door;  springing  to  her 
feet,  she  admitted  me,  but  covered  with  confusion,  burst 
into  tears. 

"What  is  the  matter,  my  dear  Miss  D.,  are  you  sick?" 

"Yes,  heart-sick,"  she  replied.  "I  have  undertaken 
what  I  can  not  accomplish.  I  can  not  teach  instru- 
mental music  in  your  school.  But,"  she  continued, 


426  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

while  her  tears  fell  thick  and  fast,  "do  not  think  me  an 
impostor.  I  am  innocent  of  any  intention  to  deceive. 
Seeing  your  advertisement  for  an  assistant  music-teacher, 
and,  having  been  for  several  years  a  teacher  of  vocal 
music,  with  some  practical  knowledge  of  the  piano,  I  was 
persuaded  by  my  injudicious,  and,  I  might  well  say,  igno- 
rant, friends  to  apply  for  the  situation.  'With  your 
theoretical  knowledge,'  said  they,  'you  are  capable  of 
giving  lessons  on  the  piano,  and  may  do  so  without  pre- 
sumption in  the  far  West,  where  there  are  so  few  fine 
musicians,  and  the  pupils  in  their  best  schools  are  but 
beginners.'  You  may  well  imagine  my  astonishment  at 
the  performance  of  the  young  ladies  in  the  parlor  this 
evening;  my  mortification  is  inexpressible.  I  am  not  fit 
for  the  place.  What  shall  I  do?" 

A  fresh  burst  of  tears  relieved  her  overcharged  heart, 
and  we  were  both  silent  for  some  minutes.  I  resolved 
upon  my  course  at  once,  charmed  into  sympathy  by  her 
candid  acknowledgment.  I  seated  myself  by  her  side, 
and  we  entered  into  as  confidential  a  conversation  as  if 
we  had  never  been  strangers.  Believing  from  her  own 
account  of  her  success  as  a  teacher  of  vocal  music  that  it 
would  be  well  to  retain  her,  I  proposed  that  she  should 
take  charge  of  a  singing-class,  and  devote  a  portion  of 
her  time  also  to  teaching  in  the  primary  department. 
WTe  had  a  large  number  of  children  in  our  school  at  that 
time,  and  I  had  long  desired  to  have  singing  introduced 
as  a  regular  branch  of  their  education.  The  proposition 
was  gratefully  accepted. 

Miss  D.  proved  to  be  an  amiable,  interesting  woman, 
of  refined  manners  and  cultivated  tastes.  Often  during 
the  hours  of  recess  the  older  girls  might  be  seen  flocking 
around  her,  asking  assistance  in  learning  their  new  songs, 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  427 

or  seeking  advice  in  some  projected  amusement.  She 
made  herself  so  agreeable,  that  even  the  girls  who  at 
first  determined  not  to  like  her  became  her  fast  friends; 
while  she  was  almost  worshiped  by  her  little  pupils, 
whom  she  made  as  happy  as  the  birds  in  their  Summer 
bowers.  A  new  impulse  was  given  to  their  mirth,  and 
their  gleeful  songs  resounded  through  the  play-ground. 
Thus  what  commenced  in  sorrow  with  her  ended  in  joy. 
Her  stay  at  Science  Hill  was  an  episode  of  sunshine 
and  singing.  I  am  somewhat  of  the  opinion  held  by  the 
good  old  German  teacher  who  set  his  boys  to  singing 
when  they  were  perverse  and  cross,  as,  he  said,  "to  drive 
the  devil  out." 

In  the  course  of  my  long  experience  as  a  teacher,  I 
have  seen  so  many  painful  results  of  the  neglect  of  early 
instruction,  that  I  shall  not  be  blamed  for  reverting  to  it 
again.  One  fact  is  worth  a  thousand  fictions.  In  ap- 
pointing woman  as  a  helpmate,  the  Creator  marked  her 
destiny;  and,  to  fit  her  for  the  task,  mercifully  infused 
into  her  soul  deep  attachment  for  home,  and  that  con- 
stancy in  affection  which  rarely  decays  till  her  heart  is 
cold  in  death ;  and  it  is  a  well-established  fact,  that  where 
opportunities  are  afforded,  and  motives  for  exertion  pre- 
sented, the  female  mind  possesses  sufficient  soundness 
and  power  to  rise  above  the  superficial,  the  showy,  and 
the  frivolous.  It  is  worse  than  weak,  it  is  wicked,  in 
those  who  have  the  charge  of  these  immortal  souls  dur- 
ing the  state  of  their  pupilage  to  let  them  grow  up  with 
no  higher  aim  than  to  heighten  and  set  off  their  personal 
attractions  by  external  adornment. 

Firmness  in  the  discharge  of  a  conscientious  duty  is 
often  of  great  importance,  and  it  should  be  the  study 
of  our  lives  to  stand  erect  even  among  those  "who  care 


428  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

for  none  of  these  things;"  knowing  that  truth  only  can 
administer  to  our  happiness  and  reflect  a  permanent  radi- 
ance upon  the  heart. 

I  faithfully  promised,  when  we  first  commenced  house- 
keeping, that  I  would  conduct  worship  at  the  family  altar 
when  my  husband  was  absent,  unless  some  other  person 
were  present  who  could  officiate.  This  was  always  a 
trial;  but  never  once  did  I  neglect  or  evade  the  duty. 
The  path  was  plain,  and  I  realized  the  blessed  promise, 
"As  thy  day  so  shall  thy  strength  be." 

Once  we  had  in  school  a  fragrant  little  human  blossom 
which  had  been  suffered  to  waste  its  sweetness  "on  the 
desert  air"  in  one  of  the  wildest  and  rudest  portions  of 
our  State.  Until  she  entered  her  teens  she  had  been  in  a 
mixed  school  of  chubby-cheeked,  freckled-faced,  romping 
children,  where  she  had  learned  to  read,  but  not  to  under- 
stand. Her  pious  Methodist  mother,  though  one  of  the 
gentlest  of  human  beings,  "comely  and  delicate,"  refined 
in  manners  and  agreeable  in  conversation,  was  entirely 
uneducated.  The  father  was  a  rough,  good-natured  Bruin, 
with  mind  as  uncouth  as  his  manners,  looking  for  all  the 
world  as  if  brought  up  on  "hog  and  hominy."  Profane 
to  a  proverb,  yet  respecting  his  religious  wife,  he  left  his 
only  daughter  entirely  to  her  direction.  This  daughter 
was  literally  the  keystone  in  the  arch  of  the  mother's 
existence.  She  was  early  taught  to  love  God,  and  keep 
his  commandments;  and  when  old  enough  to  leave  home, 
the  mother  brought  her  to  our  school  with  a  request  that 
we  would  finish  what  she  had  begun.  The  child  was 
delighted  with  the  Sabbath-school,  and  enjoyed  the  priv- 
ilege of  attending  Church  every  Sunday.  At  home  she 
had  heard  preaching  not  oftener  than  once  a  month. 

The  first  time  her  father  came  to  visit  her,  he  seemed 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  429 

exceedingly  embarrassed,  and  scarce  knew  how  to  con- 
duct himself;  but  the  caresses  of  his  daughter,  and  the 
welcome  he  received,  soon  reassured  him.  He  was  in- 
vited to  tarry  with  us.  Mr.  Tevis  was  not  at  home,  and 
my  asking  a  blessing  at  supper  appeared  to  confound 
him.  He  spoke  but  little,  and  hardly  raised  his  eyes 
during  the  meal.  Half  an  hour  after  the  bell  rang  again. 

"What's  that  bell  for?" 

"Prayers,"  replied  the  daughter. 

Well,"  said  he,  "you  can  stay  and  chat  with  me  until 
it  is  over." 

"No,  papa,  we  must  go  in;  every  body  attends  fam- 
ily prayers,  no  matter  who  is  here." 

"Well,  go  ahead;  I  suppose  I  must  follow." 

He  walked  in  and  took  a  seat  near  the  door,  listened 
attentively  to  the  reading  of  the  Scriptures,  and  appeared 
deeply  interested  during  the  whole  service,  reverently 
bowing  down  with  the  rest.  It  was  touching  to  behold 
him  kneeling  there  among, 

"Fair  young  heads, 
With  all  their  clustering  locks  untouched  by  care." 

When  rising  from  his  knees,  he  caught  the  hand  of  his 
little  daughter,  who,  with  a  blush  on  her  bright  face  and 
an  expression  of  love  in  her  clear,  eloquent  eyes,  followed 
him  into  the  parlor. 

"Well,"  said  he,  drawing  a  long  breath,  "that's  the 
first  time  I  ever  was  on  my  knees  in  my  life,  and 
wouldn't  ha'  been  then,  hadn't  a  woman  prayed." 

He  told  a  friend  afterwards  that  he  would  not  have 
been  so  much  scared  before  an  army  of  men  as  he  was 
in  that  prayer-room  full  of  young  girls;  "and,"  he 
added,  as  a  shade  of  sadness  stole  over  his  rough  face, 

"I  shall  never  forget  it." 

28 


430  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 


D 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

URING  the  Summer  of  1834  my  health  and  strength 
rapidly  declined,  and  I  was  scarcely  able  to  pass 
through  the  ordeal  of  the  closing  exercises  of  the  school 
in  July.  My  physician  advised  a  change  of  scene  and 
entire  release  from  care.  We  left  home  the  first  week  in 
August,  intending  to  visit  Harrodsburg  Springs;  trav- 
eled slowly  in  a  private  conveyance — Mr.  Tevis  and 
myself,  with  a  child  six  months  old  and  a  nurse.  The 
first  day's  journey  ended  in  Frankfort.  Here  we  met  an 
intelligent  physician,  who,  after  having  made  himself 
acquainted  with  my  case,  pronounced  it  bronchitis, 
which,  if  not  speedily  arrested,  would  terminate  in  con- 
sumption. This  was  a  new  idea,  although  my  voice  had 
been  reduced  almost  to  a  whisper,  and  it  was  with  diffi- 
culty I  swallowed  food  enough  to  keep  me  alive.  I  do 
not  know  whether  his  opinion  troubled  me  much,  as  I 
felt  satisfied  the  Lord  would  let  me  live  till  my  work  was 
done,  and  I  could  trust  him  for  the  time  whether  it  were 
days,  months,  or  years.  I  knew  also  that  my  recupera- 
tive powers  were  very  great. 

Early  the  next  morning  we  continued  our  journey 
towards  Lexington,  as  our  physician  had  earnestly  recom- 
mended "Blue  Lick"  instead  of  "Harrodsburg."  Sick 
and  languid  as  I  was,  having  had  a  poor,  thin  sort  of 
sleep,  in  which  I  did  not  entirely  lose  consciousness, 
there  still  dwelt  within  me  that  well-spring  of  healthy 
vitality,  which  always  responded  to  the  cheerful  influence 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  431 

of  a  fine  morning.  The  advancing  day  was  lovely.  The 
air  from  over  the  hills  breathed  the  fragrance  of  new- 
mown  grass,  and  we  were  sheltered  from  the  heat  of  the 
sun  by  the  dense  foliage  of  overhanging  trees.  Nature 
wore  her  coronation  robes,  trailing  their  radiance  in  our 
pathway.  Soft  Summer  clouds  were  sailing  in  the  blue 
sky  above  like  white-winged  vessels  freighted  with  pearls 
for  some  impoverished  land.  At  noon  we  rested  and 
lunched  by  the  side  of  a  clear  spring,  under  the  branches 
of  a  sugar  maple,  which  hung  its  grateful  shadows  over 
the  green  turf.  Early  in  the  afternoon  we  reached  Lex- 
ington, and  here  met  some  pleasant  friends,  who  spent 
the  evening  with  us. 

We  left  the  next  morning  at  a  very  early  hour,  in 
order  to  avoid  the  heat  of  the  day  and  reach  the  end  of 
our  journey  before  night.  During  the  forenoon  we  trav- 
eled through  "a  land  flowing  with  milk  and  honey." 
The  scenery  was  a  continued  panorama  of  blue-grass 
meadows  with  tangled  wilds  of  verdure.  That  delicious 
day  is  embalmed  in  my  recollection  as  a  "joy  forever." 

When  we  reached  the  little  bridge  flung  across  the 
Licking  River,  we  paused  for  a  short  time  to  take  a  view 
of  the  surrounding  country.  On  the  left,  beyond  the 
river,  was  the  rocky  ridge,  its  bold  front  cutting  sharply 
against  the  sky,  upon  which  was  fought  the  battle  of 
"Blue  Licks,"  August  19,  1782 — the  bloodiest  and  most 
disastrous  in  the  annals  of  savage  warfare  except  Brad- 
dock's  defeat.  A  deep  ravine  on  each  side  of  this  ridge, 
thickly  entangled  with  bushes,  enabled  the  Indians  to  lie 
in  ambush  and  watch  in  silence  the  coming  enemy. 
Quietly  they  waited  until  the  Kentucky  troops  had 
reached  the  top  of  the  ridge,  which  was  perfectly  bare 
except  a  few  dwarfish  cedars,  and  a  multitude  of  rocks 


432  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

spread  over  the  surface,  rendering  it  still  more  desolate 
in  appearance. 

One  may  well  imagine  the  feelings  of  our  brave  men 
when,  having  reached  the  summit  without  hearing  a 
sound  or  seeing  a  foe,  the  terrific  war-cry  of  the  savages 
rang  out  upon  the  air.  They  were  soon  completely  sur- 
rounded by  a  force  far  outnumbering  their  own.  No 
alternative  remained  but  to  cut  their  way  through,  which 
was  done  with  a  bravery  and  desperation  worthy  the 
palmiest  days  of  Sparta.  The  Indians  contested  every 
foot  of  ground,  and  compelled  them  occasionally  to  stand 
at  bay.  The  slaughter  was  greatest  in  a  large  cedar 
grove  near  the  river  bank.  That  grove  is  now  set  in 
blue  grass,  and  affords  a  delightful  retreat  for  visitors 
during  the  heat  of  the  day.  Finally,  our  men  dashed 
tumultuously  into  the  stream,  the  Indians  in  hot  pursuit, 
mingling  with  the  whites  in  one  rolling,  irregular  mass. 
Some  of  the  fugitives,  plunging  into  the  thickets,  escaped 
by  a  circuitous  route  to  Bryant's  station,  twenty  miles 
distant.  Others  found  a  passage  above  the  ford  by 
swimming.  Many  who  could  not  swim,  were  overtaken 
and  killed  at  the  edge  of  the  water.  A  few  finely 
mounted  horsemen  crossed  the  river  in  safety,  and  firing 
upon  the  Indians  saved  those  friends  still  struggling  in 
the  stream.  The  result  of  this  terrible  battle  shrouded 
the  new  settlements  of  Kentucky  in  mourning. 

I  was  struck  with  the  insignificance  of  Licking  River, 
whose  sluggish  waters  flowed  sleepily  onward,  swaying 
the  masses  of  weeds  just  beneath  the  surface.  The  river 
banks  were  overgrown  with  reeds  and  willows,  and  the 
dull,  gurgling  sound  of  the  water  added  a  deeper  gloom 
to  the  surrounding  solitude.  After  crossing  the  bridge, 
a  drive  of  about  two  hundred  yards  brought  us  to  the 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  433 

boarding-house,  which,  at  that  period,  did  not  present 
a  very  inviting  aspect.  There  was  a  lawn  shaded  by  tall 
evergreens,  with  here  and  there  a  venerable  old  tree. 
These  have  long  since  been  removed,  and  extensive  and 
beautiful  improvements  have  taken  their  place.  The 
Blue  Lick  was  not  a  fashionable  watering-place,  but  the 
resort  principally  of  invalids,  with  the  few  who  were 
seeking  quiet  and  retirement  from  the  busy  haunts 
of  men. 

My  first  night  was  a  rest  indeed,  and  I  did  not  awake 
in  the  morning  until  the  sun  was  flooding  my  chamber 
with  its  silent  arousal.  Half  a  glass  of  wine  and  a  piece 
of  bread  constituted  my  first  breakfast  there.  Having, 
in  vain,  endeavored  to  drink  the  water  when  deprived 
of  its  sparkling  effervescence,  I  was  obliged  to  walk 
to  the  spring,  which  I  could  not  accomplish  the  first 
day  without  assistance,  though  the  distance  was  short. 
There  I  found  health-seeking  invalids  drinking  and  rest- 
ing alternately  and  watching  the  new-comers  in  their 
laughable  efforts  to  swallow  the  distasteful  water.  Some 
caught  the  sparkling  bubbles  of  gas  as  they  streamed  up 
to  the  surface,  and  swallowed  cup  after  cup,  looking,  for 
all  the  world,  as  I  fancy  Socrates  did  when  he  drank  the 
hemlock,  doubting  whether  it  would  really  introduce  him 
into  Elysian  fields  or  not.  I  drank  sparingly,  but  at 
short  intervals.  My  appetite  gradually  increased,  as  my 
health  improved,  and  in  less  than  a  week  I  was  able  to 
take  my  meals  at  the  "table  d  hote,"  and  stroll  over  the 
grounds  without  assistance. 

The  spot,  at  that  time,  was  as  solitary  and  romantic  as 
an  oasis  in  the  desert,  though  situated  on  the  renowned 
Maysville  turnpike,  not  then  finished,  yet  it  was  the 
great  thoroughfare  of  the  State.  The  spring  flows  appar- 


434  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

ently  from  an  exhaustless  source,  and,  like  the  wells 
of  Solomon,  it  is  ever  brimming.  Bubbles  of  gas  are 
constantly  chasing  each  other  to  the  surface,  and  spread- 
ing over  it  like  gleaming  sun-jewels.  Sulphuretted  hydro- 
gen, carbonic  acid,  common  salt,  sulphate  of  magnesia, 
and  soda  are  the  principal  elements.  For  many  years  it 
is  well  known  that  this  water  has  been  an  important 
article  of  commerce.  Thousands  of  barrels  are  annually 
exported,  enriching  the  owners  independently  of  the 
profits  derived  from  visitors. 

At  an  early  day  it  was  a  place  of  great  importance,  as 
it  was  chiefly  here  that  the  first  settlers  procured  their 
supplies  of  salt.  In  January,  1778,  Boone  was  encamped 
in  the  vicinity  with  about  thirty  others  making  salt  for 
the  different  stations.  This  cane-covered  land  was  the 
Indian  hunter's  paradise.  Numerous  herds  of  buffalo, 
elk,  and  deer  roamed  over  the  hills  and  through  the 
valleys  of  the  Licking. 

One  day,  when  Boone  was  out  hunting  alone,  he 
encountered  more  than  a  hundred  Indians.  He  instantly 
fled,  but  being  over  fifty  years  of  age,  could  not  outstrip 
the  young  Avarriors  in  pursuit,  and  was  taken  prisoner. 
According  to  their  custom  he  was  treated  kindly  until 
his  fate  was  determined.  They  led  him  back  to  his 
encampment.  Here  the  whole  party  of  whites  surren- 
dered upon  condition  of  being  spared  and  well  treated. 
The  savages  faith fuUy  observed  this  promise.  How 
differently  have  the  civilized  whites  acted !  Timidity  was 
an  unpardonable  blemish  in  the  character  of  a  Kentucky 
huntsman,  and  so,  indeed,  was  mercy  toward  an  Indian. 

It  was  an  established  rule  among  the  early  settlers 
never  to  suffer  an  Indian  aggression  to  go  unpunished, 
but  to  retaliate  a  hundred  fold;  and  sometimes  when  no 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  435 

resistance  was  offered,  their  villages  were  reduced  to 
ashes,  their  corn  cut  up,  and  their  whole  country  laid 
waste  with  unsparing  severity.  No  quarter  was  given, 
no  prisoners  taken — every  thing  within  the  reach  of  the 
avenger  was  completely  destroyed.  The  brutal  ferocity 
of  the  whites  on  some  occasions  might  call  a  blush  to  the 
cheek  of  a  savage. 

The  first  day  of  February,  1835,  we  left  home  with 
the  intention  of  visiting  some  of  the  Eastern  cities. 
Our  party  consisted  of  Mr.  Tevis,  myself,  my  sister 
Arabella,  and  Eliza  Ann  Wilson,  a  lovely  young  girl, 
who  had  been  one  of  my  pupils,  and  was  just  about  to 
step  upon  the  tapis  of  society.  Our  trip  to  Louisville 
was  charming.  The  morning  was  spring-like,  the  birds 
singing  in  the  leafless  trees,  and  the  little  streams  winding 
through  meadows,  which  had  worn  their  green  garments 
all  Winter.  There  was  loveliness  on  the  earth  and  in 
the  air,  and  all  nature  smiled  a  welcome  for  the  coming 
Spring. 

Before  we  reached  Louisville,  however  (we  traveled  in 
slow  coaches  then),  we  felt  an  ominous  keenness  in  the 
air,  which  compelled  us  to  wrap  our  mantles  close  about 
us.  The  next  morning  we  took  passage  on  a  small,  but 
comfortable,  steamer  for  Pittsburg.  The  cold  continued 
to  increase,  and  by  the  time  we  reached  Cincinnati  ice 
began  to  appear  in  the  river,  and  we  began  to  apprehend 
that  we  had  mistaken  the  season ;  however,  we  were  not 
discouraged.  We  had  quite  a  reunion  of  friends  and 
acquaintances  on  board,  and  among  them  merchants  from 
Shelbyville  going  for  their  Spring  goods.  Our  little  town 
boasted  at  that  time  of  not  less  than  fifteen  dry-goods 
stores,  which  were  principally  supplied  from  the  Eastern 
markets. 


436  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

We  frequently  met  in  the  ladies'  cabin,  and  each  tried 
to  make  to-day  agreeable,  heedless  of  to-morrow.  On 
the  afternoon  of  the  first  day  out  from  Cincinnati,  it  was 
discovered,  to  the  horror  and  amazement  of  every  body 
on  board,  that  we  had  barely  escaped  being  blown  up. 
What  a  scene  ensued!  Every  body  talked;  nobody  list- 
ened ;  the  ladies  screamed,  although  the  danger  was  over, 
and  the  captain  swore  at  a  terrible  rate. 

A  careless  deck  hand  had  left  a  piece  of  candle,  not 
more  than  an  inch  long,  stuck  on  the  corner  of  a  pine 
box  in  the  hold  of  the  vessel.  The  mate  fortunately 
entered  the  hold  in  time  to  extinguish  the  just  kindling 
box,  which  was  a  large  and  heavy  one  containing  kegs 
of  powder.  Upon  inquiry,  it  was  found  that  the  contra- 
band article  had  been  smuggled  on  board.  After  dili- 
gent search  the  culprit  was  found  and  dragged  into  the 
cabin,  half  dead  with  fear.  The  captain  could  scarcely 
be  prevented  from  pitching  the  man  overboard,  though 
the  poor  fellow  solemnly  declared  that  he  had  taken 
charge  of  the  box  at  the  solicitation  of  a  friend,  without 
knowing  its  contents.  The  passengers  pleaded  for  him, 
and,  while  arguing  the  matter,  a  flat-bottomed  boat  was 
seen  coming  down  the  river,  and  the  difficulty  was  set- 
tled by  putting  the  man  and  his  box  on  the  boat  to 
float  back  to  Cincinnati. 

During  the  excitement,  in  which  every  body  seemed 
to  join,  I  was  amused  watching  the  imperturbable  gravity 
of  an  old  German,  who  sat  smoking  his  pipe  until  the 
drama  was  over. 

"Well  den,"  said  he  [I  had  taken  a  seat  near  him], 
"here  is  von  great  fuss  for  notin'  at  all." 

"Why,"  said  I,  "wre  were  in  great  danger  of  being 
blown  up." 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  437 

"Vy,  vat  you  care  for  dat?  dat  's  notin'.  I  vas  been 
blown  up  vonce,  and,  ven  all  vas  over,  I  finds  myself 
sittin'  on  a  tree,  notin'  lost  but  my  shmok-bipe  and  mine 
hat."  Then  he  grunted  and  smoked  away  more  vigor- 
ously than  ever. 

"Was  nobody  hurt?"  said  I. 

"Oh,  yas,  some  legs,  some  arms  vas  gone,  and  many 
folks  vas  kilt."  And  he  smoked  again  without  the  slight- 
est evidence  of  concern  for  maimed  humanity  or  dark- 
ened homes. 

"Well,"  said  I,  "I  wonder  you  ever  came  upon  a 
steamboat  again." 

He  uttered  a  guttural  laugh,  and  said,  as  he  shrugged 
his  shoulders,  "Dere  is  no  help  for  it.  Ve  must  travel; 
if  de  steamboat  blows  up,  den  it  must  blow  up,  and  if 
ve  gets  kilt,  den  ve  travels  no  more." 

Never  in  my  life  did  I  meet  with  a  more  thorough 
"I  care  for  nobody,  no  not  I,  nobody  cares  for  me." 

Each  succeeding  day  brought  an  increase  of  cold, 
thickened  the  ice,  and  thus  we  moved  but  slowly  onward. 
To  add  to  our  discomfort,  provisions  were  growing  scarce. 
The  captain  had  expected  to  supply  himself,  as  usual,  by 
stopping  at  different  landings,  or  purchasing  from  the 
riverside  market-people,  who  always  brought  fresh  butter, 
eggs,  and  fowls  to  supply  boats  as  they  passed  along. 
The  ice-incrusted  shores  prevented  our  landing,  and  finally 
we  were  reduced  to  one  meal  a  day,  of  crackers,  tea, 
and  rice.  The  wood  was  giving  out,  the  fires  in  the 
furnaces  could  not  be  kept  up,  and  it  was  feared  the 
river  would  soon  be  blocked  up  Avith  our  "phantom 
ship"  in  the  midst  of  it. 

Meantime  we  were  cutting  our  way  slowly  through 
the  accumulating  ice,  striving  to  reach  Guyandotte,  the 


438  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

nearest  place  where  we  could  hope  to  find  relief.  In  the 
midst  of  these  depressions,  with  the  apprehension  of 
some  greater  calamity,  every  body  was  good-humored 
and  amiable.  One  evening  while  walking  the  guards 
rapidly  for  exercise,  we  heard  a  stentorian  voice  on  the 
lower  deck  addressing  an  apparently  listening  audience. 
Curiosity  drew  many  of  the  cabin  passengers  below,  and 
there  stood  a  tall,  double-fisted  fellow,  mounted  on  a  ros- 
trum, swaying  his  arms  like  a  Fourth  of  July  orator,  and 
holding  forth  in  something  like  the  following: 

"Fellow-travelers,  —  I  exhort  you  to  courage  and  sub- 
mission to  your  lot.  I  know  you  are  a  miserable  set  of 
sinners,  and  so  is  your  humble  servant;  and  as  we  must 
fast  we  ought  to  pray  also.  Don't  let  his  Satanic  maj- 
esty have  dominion  over  you  any  longer.  Awake  from 
the  sleep  into  which  the  old  Sarpent  has  lulled  you  and 
clear  away  the  mists  from  your  bleared  eyes.  Now  do  n't 
be  down-hearted.  I  should  be  ashamed  if  any  of  my 
brave  companions  could  n't  face  hunger  as  well  as  cold — 
and  as  for  the  tea,  crackers,  and  rice,  do  n't  let 's  be  nig- 
gardly about  them,  give  to  the  weaker  sex  the  last  mor- 
sel on  board.  Three  cheers  for  the  ladies!  God  bless 
them!"  The  cheers  came  with  a  hearty  good  will. 
"And  now  in  conclusion,  friends  and  fellow-sufferers,  I 
would  whisper  a  word  in  your  ears,"  and,  lowering  his 
voice,  "I  am  afraid  we  have  a  Jonas  on  board,  sent, 
perhaps,  to  preach  to  some  great  Nineveh  (Cincinnati,  it 
may  be),  but,  instead  of  going,  has  hid  himself  among  us 
poor  sailors.  Now  if  the  worst  comes  to  the  worst,  we 
will  pitch  him — not  into  the  sea — but  into  the  ice." 
Thus  did  these  hungry  but  jolly  and  good-natured  fellows 
while  away  their  unemployed  and  uncomfortable  time. 

Night  came  on  soon  after,  a  moonless  night.     Jagged 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  439 

and  heavy  masses  of  clouds,  broken  occasionally  so  as  to 
let  a  single  star  peer  through  upon  the  darkness  below, 
were  swept  swiftly  over  the  sky  by  a  howling  north  wind. 
We  went  supperless  to  bed,  to  sleep  or  to  await,  with 
what  fortitude  we  might,  the  coming  day.  Contrary  to 
our  expectations  the  wind  died  away  during  the  night, 
and  before  sunrise  the  men  had  cut  and  cleared  away  the 
ice  around  the  vessel ;  their  efforts  being  aided  afterwards 
by  the  heat  of  the  sun,  we  were  enabled  to  move  on- 
ward, though  the  cold  was  intense.  Some  of  the  gentle- 
men, becoming  impatient  at  our  detention,  left  the  boat 
and  walked  across  to  the  Virginia  shore,  and  thence  on- 
ward seven  or  eight  miles,  until  they  reached  a  station- 
house,  whence  they  journeyed  on  by  stage,  leaving  their 
baggage  on  the  boat  to  be  forwarded. 

I  never  shall  forget  that  cold  Friday  afternoon  when 
the  remainder  of  us  reached  Guyandotte.  This  town  is 
situated  on  a  bluff.  The  steamboat  could  not  reach  the 
shore,  and  we  walked  across  the  ice.  The  wind  swept 
around  the  sides  of  the  surrounding  hills  with  the 
force  of  a  hurricane.  But  we  were  amply  rewarded 
when  we  reached  the  hotel.  Blazing  log  fires,  warm, 
comfortable  rooms,  and  downy  beds  awaited  us.  We 
were  first  ushered  into  a  cheerful  dining-room,  and,  be- 
ing closely  drawn  together  by  common  misfortunes,  we 
formed  but  one  party,  about  twenty  in  number.  A 
supper  of  delicious,  well-cooked  venison,  rich  coffee,  and 
hot  buckwheat  cakes  in  abundance,  satisfied  our  appe- 
tites, and  rendered  us  a  cheerful  company  of  way-worn 
travelers.  A  night  of  balmy"  sleep  restored  our  tired 
natures  and  buried  the  memory  of  our  discomforts. 

The  next  day  we  marshaled  our  forces,  and  found 
each  member  of  the  party  disposed  to  contribute  to  the 


440  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

comfort  of  the  others  during  our  sojourn  at  Mr.  Wright's. 
Captain  William  Winlock,  a  merchant  and  good  Meth- 
odist brother  from  Shelbyville,  was  the  Orpheus  of  our 
company.  His  soul  was  full  of  music,  and  he  played 
exquisitely  on  the  violin.  So  chaste  and  beautiful  were 
his  selections  that  even  the  most  conscientious  could  not 
object  to  the  instrument;  on  the  contrary,  its  tone  thrilled 
in  harmony  with  all  that  was  elevating,  noble,  and  de- 
vout, quieting  the  restless  pulse  of  care  and  beguiling 
the  tired  spirit  into  rest. 

My  husband  was  too  faithful  a  follower  of  John  Wes- 
ley to  remain  idle.  He  prayed  wherever  he  could,  and 
went  out  every  day,  freezing  cold  as  it  was,  to  hunt  up 
the  Methodists  in  the  neighborhood.  Once  I  went  with 
him,  three  miles  in  the  country,  to  spend  the  day  with 
as  primitive  a  Methodist  family  as  might  have  been  found 
in  the  days  of  Whitefield  and  the  Wesleys.  The  sky 
was  overcast,  and  the  clouds  were  burdened  with  a 
wealth  of  snow,  that  soon  began  to  fall  so  thick  and  fast 
as  nearly  to  blind  us,  and  we  quite  lost  our  way.  The 
only  alternative  was  to  give  the  reins  to  the  horse ;  and, 
after  a  few  windings  and  turnings,  he  took  us  safely  to 
the  place,  an  old-fashioned,  substantially  built  farm-house, 
with  a  long  porch  in  front,  and  a  little  room  cut  off  at 
one  end.  This  had  been  the  homestead  for  many  gener- 
ations. We  were  met  on  the  threshold  by  a  dignified 
old  man,  dressed  in  homespun,  and  his  matronly  wife, 
neatly  attired  in  a  dark  worsted  gown.  She  was  followed 
by  her  daughter,  a  lovely  young  woman,  all  greeting  us 
heartily,  and  ushering  us  into  the  best  room.  A  blaz- 
ing fire  burned  in  the  wide-open  fireplace.  The  hearth- 
stone was  white  and  polished;  a  carpet  of  domestic  man- 
ufacture covered  the  floor;  heavy,  high-backed  chairs  of 


YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  441 

mahogany  were  arranged  around  the  room,  and  in  the 
chimney-corners  were  large,  cozy  arm-chairs.  An  antique 
looking-glass,  with  a  mahogany  frame,  hung  at  an  angle 
of  ten  degrees,  according  the  fashion  of  the  times ;  and 
a  tall,  old-fashioned  clock  completed  the  furniture  of  a 
room  genteel  enough  for  any  body.  Sofas,  marble  man- 
tels, and  folding  doors  were  not  considered  indispensably 
necessary,  by  these  simple-hearted  people  to  render  the' 
house  tenantable;  yet  they  were  rich  in  this  world's 
goods,  and  distributed  liberally  to  the  poor.  The  way- 
faring man  and  the  stranger  found  a  welcome  at  their 
hospitable  board.  Their  sons  and  daughters  had  been 
educated  intellectually  as  well  as  religiously,  and  had 
gone  forth  into  the  world  to  be  blessings  to  society. 

What  a  delightful  home,  thought  I,  as  I  looked 
around  and  felt  the  glowing  warmth  of  the  clear,  snap- 
ping wood-fire,  with  its  huge  logs  looking  as  if  they 
might  never  be  consumed. 

My  own  busy  life  rose  up  before  me,  and  I  almost 
envied  this  "retreat  from  care,  which  never  must  be 
mine."  I  fell  quite  in  love  with  the  family,  and  affec- 
tionately venerated  the  two  old  people;  such  power  there 
is  in  established  piety. 

An  enthusiast  in  antiquities,  I  strive  to  lay  under  con- 
tribution all  the  well  -  stricken  in  years  within  my  reach, 
and  deem  it  the  performance  of  a  grateful  duty  to  society 
to  rescue  from  oblivion  the  long  gone  and  forgotten  anec- 
dotes and  curious  facts  connected  with  the  early  settle- 
ment of  my  country.  Many  circumstances,  not  of  suffi- 
cient importance  to  be  admitted  into  history,  may  find 
their  proper  place  in  biography.  They  will  amuse  our 
children ;  and,  indeed,  there  is  much  of  which  the  younger 
part  of  the  present  generation  is  wholly  ignorant.  These 


442  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

things,  trifles  as  they  may  at  first  appear,  are  worth  pre- 
serving; all  who  remember  the  olden  times  will  do  well 
to  contribute  their  mite.  Unfortunately,  the  prevailing 
spirit  of  the  age  is  to  make  all  things  new;  and  the  gen- 
eration which,  by  personal  knowledge  or  by  tradition, 
possesses  the  power  of  telling  things  just  as  they  were 
is  fast  passing  away. 

These  dear  old  people  contributed  much  to  our  enter- 
tainment by  their  reminiscences  of  the  first  settlers  in 
Western  Virginia,  entering  into  the  minutiae  of  their 
customs  and  habits,  far  more  illustrative  of  their  charac- 
ter than  great  events.  They  were  rich  in  traditions 
handed  down  through  a  line  of  ancestry  extending  back 
to  Captain  John  Smith. 

It  was  near  nine  o'clock  at  night  when  we  left  this 
hospitable  family,  and  we  enjoyed  the  drive  back  exceed- 
ingly. The  full  moon  was  looking  down  from  a  clear 
sky,  sprinkling  with  silvery  showers  rock,  tree,  and  shrub, 
and  clothing  in  mysterious  loveliness  the  yet  untrodden 
snow.  A  guide  accompanied  us  until  within  sight  of 
the  town. 

A  week  had  passed,  and  we  were  still  at  Guyandotte, 
watching  the  -ice  as  it  floated  down  the  river;  yet  we 
were  spending  our  time  neither  in  a  sad  nor  useless  man- 
ner. The  Sabbath  was  near  at  hand,  and  it  was  decided 
that  we  should  have  religious  service  in  the  school-house. 
There  was  no  church  in  this  little  town  set  on  a  hill ;  but 
they  did  not  suffer  the  watch-fires  of  religion  to  be  ex- 
tinguished, nor  put  their  candle  under  a  bushel,  but 
gladly  embraced  every  opportunity  of  hearing  the  Gospel 
preached.  The  appointment  was  published  abroad  during 
the  week,  but  the  weather  was  so  intensely  cold  that  the 
congregation  was  small — the  guests  from  the  hotel  and  a 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  443 

few  towns -people;  yet  the  preacher  needed  not  a  large 
audience  to  call  forth  his  soul  in  behalf  of  sinners.  His 
conscience  held  him  with  a  grasp  of  iron  to  unceasing 
labor  in  the  vineyard  of  the  Lord,  and  a  sense  of  duty 
awakened  an  enthusiasm  that  enabled  him  .to  preach  with 
as  much  earnestness  to  one  as  to  many.  The  closing 
appeal  was  forcible  and  eloquent;  and  no  doubt  some 
felt  the  influence  of  deep  and  irrepressible  feeling  in  the 
preacher,  and  dated  convictions  from  that  hour  that 
told  not  only  upon  their  future  lives,  but  upon  their 
eternal  destiny.  Who  knows? 

Ten  days  elapsed  before  the  joyful  news  was  announced 
that  the  captain  thought  we  could  proceed  on  our  trip 
with  but  slight  impediment  from  the  ice.  Many  who 
landed  with  us  at  Guyandotte  had  found  an  opportunity 
of  going  through  Virginia  by  stage,  so  that  our  party 
was  considerably  reduced  in  number. 

One  bright  morning  we  bade  adieu  to  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Wright,  not  without  regret.  They  had  contributed  so 
much  to  our  comfort  and  happiness  during  our  sojourn 
in  their  model  hotel  that,  though  we  met  them  as 
strangers,  we  left  them  as  friends.  We  were  soon  com- 
fortably situated  on  the  brave  little  steamer,  congratulat- 
ing each  other  on  the  prospect  of  a  speedy  termination 
of  our  journey.  But  we  had  proceeded  only  a  few  miles 
up  the  river,  when  such  a  quantity  of  floating  ice  came 
crushing  and  crowding  around  us,  and  so  impeded  our 
progress,  that  it  was  late  in  the  afternoon  before  we 
reached  Gallipolis, — we  could  proceed  no  farther.  The 
river  was  completely  blocked  across,  and  we  had  to  walk 
on  the  ice  to  reach  the  shore. 

Surely,  never  did  any  little  town  present  so  gloomy  an 
appearance.  The  miserable  little  tavern  that  received  us 


444  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

was  crowded  with  all  sorts  of  travelers,  presenting  no 
evidence  of  comfort  within  or  around  it.  For  the  first 
time  I  felt  discouraged  and  homesick,  and  declared  I 
would  go  no  farther,  and  would  take  no  part  in  the  con- 
sultation as  to  what  was  to  be  done  next.  It  was  finally 
concluded  that  if  a  conveyance  could  be  found  we  would 
cross  the  country  to  Chillicothe,  whence  we  might  pro- 
ceed on  our  route  by  stage-coach  over  the  great  Na- 
tional Road  as  far  as  Wheeling,  and  thence  through 
Pennsylvania. 

After  an  hour's  search  an  old  coach  was  found,  be- 
longing to  the  mail  contractor,  once  used  as  a  passenger- 
coach,  but  now,  as  the  road  was  little  traveled,  and  the 
country  sparsely  settled,  the  mail  was  carried  on  horse- 
back. The  mail-carrier  undertook  to  drive  the  coach  for 
a  consideration.  The  landlord  was  asked  if  he  could 
furnish  some  straw  or  hay  to  put  in  the  bottom  of  the 
coach,  which  was  leaky,  and  hardly  road-worthy. 

"Hay!  no,  indeed,"  said  he;  "and  straw  are  skercer 
still." 

So  onward  we  moved,  but  so  slowly  that  I  was  satis- 
fied the  driver  was  a  cautious  man.  We  had  proceeded 
about  half  a  dozen  miles  when  we  reached  a  declivity  in 
the  road  made  slippery  by  the  snow  and  ice,  and  the 
passengers  were  requested  to  turn  out, — the  gentlemen 
being  informed,  meantime,  that  they  must  hold  up  the 
coach  on  one  side  to  keep  it  from  turning  over. 

"Can't  the  ladies  stay  in?"  said  the  four  gentlemen, 
as  they  tumbled  themselves  out. 

"To  be  sure  they  must,"  said  Mr.  Tevis,  "for  it  is 
impossible  for  them  to  walk  down  this  hill." 

"They  be  liken  to  have  their  necks  broke  if  they  do, " 
coolly  replied  the  driver. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  445 

The  ladies  were  all  out  before  the  sentence  was  fin- 
ished. The  night  was  dark,  but  the  dimly  burning  lan- 
terns aided  us  in  finding  the  way,  though  we  were  slip- 
ping, sliding,  and  trembling  at  every  few  steps.  One 
queer  fellow,  who  had  at  first  positively  declared  he 
would  not  get  out,  as  he  had  paid  for  his  passage  and 
the  driver  was  responsible  for  his  safety,  was  rolling  and 
turning  summersaults  all  the  way  down  the  hill,  to  the 
infinite  amusement  of  the  whole  company. 

After  the  perilous  descent  was  accomplished  the  driver 
picked  up  his  passengers,  and  moved  on  again  at  the  rate 
of  two  miles  an  hour  till  midnight. 

At  last  we  came  to  a  dwelling  standing  quite  alone — 
a  large,  rambling  log -cabin.  Through  the  unchinked 
walls  and  open  door  issued  an  inviting  light,  which  made 
us  insist  upon  getting  out  to  warm.  By  this  time  our 
discontented  passenger,  who  had  refused  to  get  out,  and 
had  been  left  behind  in  the  snow,  made  his  appearance, 
and  we  all  entered  the  cabin  without  ceremony  as  there 
was  no  door  at  which  to  knock.  The  fire  was  replen- 
ished from  a  brush -heap  in  the  corner,  and  around  this 
we  all  gathered,  chatting  merrily  over  our  misfortunes — 
not  as  yet  having  seen  any  sign  of  an  inhabitant. 

Presently  the  gentlemen  began  to  talk  politics,  and 
Jackson's  Administration  was  alternately  abused  and 
lauded.  The  United  States  Bank,  the  Maysville  Turn- 
pike, and  the  President's  vetoes  were  the  all-absorbing 
topics.  One  gentleman  declared  that  Jackson  was  worthy 
of  being  elevated  to  the  standard  of  General  Washington. 
Just  then,  to  our  extreme  amazement,  a  loud  voice  from 
the  remotest  corner  of  the  room  cried  out: 

"Yes;  I  '11  tell  you  where  he  ought  to  be  elevated — 

on  a  gallus  high  as  Haman's. " 

29 


446  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

Then  a  weird -looking  figure,  whose  elf  locks  seemed 
electrified  by  the  cold,  walked  slowly  up  to  us.  Some 
of  the  company  rose  to  their  feet. 

"Keep  your  seats,  ladies  and  gentlemen" — we  were 
all  sitting  on  the  floor — "you  are  heartily  welcome  to 
warm  by  my  fire.  Sorry  I  ain't  got  nothin'  to  treat  you 
with — not  a  drap  of  liquor  in  the  house.  I  'd  ax  you  to 
eat  a  bite,  only  my  wife  and  children  's  asleep,  and  we 
ain't  got  nothin'  cooked." 

Involuntarily  I  turned  to  the  corner  whence  he  sprang, 
and  there  saw  a  mound  of  dirty  bedclothes,  under  which 
they  were  all  probably  snugged  away. 

"  Living  in  a  house  without  any  door, 
With  an  unlaid  hearth  and  an  unfinished  floor," 

and  discussing  the  affairs  of  a  nation!  Could  he  read? 
Doubtful.  But  he  was  twenty -one,  could  vote,  and  was 
one  of  "the  people." 

We  resumed  our  journey,  the  darkness  of  the  night 
relieved  only  by  our  lanterns  dimly  burning.  The  road 
becoming  rougher  and  the  country  wilder,  the  horses 
were  fatigued,  and  stumbled  dreadfully,  being  scarcely 
able  to  drag  us  along.  No  dwelling-houses  were  to  be 
seen.  We  were  so  cold  and  restless  that  sleep  was  a 
stranger  to  our  eyelids,  and  the  night  seemed  interminable. 

But  "time  and  the  hour  passed."  Morning  broke, 
and  before  eight  o'clock  we  reached  the  breakfast  station. 
It  seemed  that  they  had  received  information  of  our 
coming,  for  breakfast  was  ready,  and  we  were  quite  ready 
for  it.  The  fat  landlady,  with  a  face  as  blooming  as  a 
cabbage-rose,  and  full  of  bustling  insignificance  showed 
us  into  the  dining-room.  Fried  ham  and  eggs,  hot 
coffee  and  smoking  potatoes,  milk,  honey,  molasses, 
and  pies,  with  a  dish  of  pork  and  beans  in  the  center, 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  447 

presented  a  repast  which   I   thought    good    enough    for 
a  king. 

Attached  to  our  party  was  a  merchant  from  one  of 
the  county  towns  of  Kentucky,  who  thought  himself 
quite  fine,  with  his  dingy  shirt-ruffles  sticking  out  fully 
an  eighth  of  a  yard,  his  glittering  breast-pin,  monstrous 
seal-ring,  and  flashy  gold  watch-chain.  Patronizingly 
surveying  the  landlady,  he  said,  in  the  blandest  tone, 
after  drinking  his  first  cup  of  coffee : 

"Madam,  where  are  the  milk?" 

"There  it  are,  sir,"  said  she,  pointing  to  a  stone 
pitcher  with  her  fat  finger. 

A  suppressed  titter  from  the  girls  was  silenced  by  a 
look  from  Mr.  Tevis,  but  their  gravity  was  again  upset  by: 

"Miss,  them  are  molasses,  if  you  please.  Is  them 
home-made,  Ma'am?" 

"Yes,  sir;  and  I  can  ricommend  them  as  being 
sweeter  and  better  than  any  of  yer  furrin  'lasses;  clearer, 
sure,  than  any  of  yer  Muscavaders. " 

This  was  too  much  for  the  girls,  and  their  efforts  to 
suppress  their  merriment  forced  them  to  leave  the  table 
with  but  half-satisfied  appetites. 

As  there  was  no  prospect  of  the  cold's  abating,  we 
hired  from  the  landlady  several  blankets,  to  be  returned 
by  the  stage-driver.  At  noon  we  stopped  at  a  house  on 
the  roadside,  if  haply  we  might  procure  something  to 
eat  —  not  having  been  wise  enough  to  bring  with  us  a 
lunch.  It  was  a  dreary-looking  place,  not  a  living  being 
to  be  seen,  though  the  driver  assured  us  it  was  inhabited. 
The  door  was  opened  by  a  little  boy  about  ten  years  of 
age.  Two  or  three  children  were  parching  corn  in  a 
skillet  placed  on  the  hearth,  in  which  they  were  so 
much  interested  that  they  did  not  raise  their  eyes  to 


448  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

look  at  us.  The  boy  was  sprightly,  and  showed  not  the 
least  timidity. 

"Can  't  you  give  us  something  to  eat,  my  son?" 

"We  ain't  got  any  thing  for  ourselves,"  said  he,  "but 
this  parched  corn." 

"Where  are  your  father  and  mother?" 

"Daddy  's  gone  to  Jackson,  and  mammy  's  gone  to 
mill." 

There  was  not  a  particle  of  furniture  in  the  room 
except  a  few  old  chairs,  two  or  three  stools,  and  a  stout 
deal  table,  upon  which  stood  a  barrel  with  a  convenient 
stop -cock. 

' '  What 's  in  that  barrel  ?     Cider  ?" 

"No,  that's  prime  old  whisky.  We  sells  tavern  here. 
Want  a  dram?" 

Suiting  the  action  to  the  words  he  seized  a  tin-cup 
and  was  about  to  draw  the  liquor.  "Stop!  stop!"  said 
Mr.  Tevis,  "we  do  not  want  any,  and  you  must-  never 
drink  it  yourself."  The  gentleman  gave  a  few  small 
pieces  of  silver  to  the  children,  and  after  being  well 
warmed  we  left. 

Just  as  twilight  was  deepening  into  darkness,  we 
reached  the  town  of  Jackson,  and  were  driven  up  to  the 
door  of  the  tavern  kept  by  our  driver,  who  was  also  stage 
contractor  and  mail  carrier — a  thrifty  man,  who  turned 
every  thing  to  his  own  advantage,  and  who  would  do 
any  thing  within  the  bounds  of  honesty  "for  a  consid- 
eration." We  all  rushed  into  the  reception-room,  and 
were  soon  comfortably  seated  around  the  hottest  fire  I 
ever  saw.  We  left  the  frigid  zone  out  of  doors,  but 
found  midsummer  in  the  house.  Logs  of  wood  were 
heaped  up  nearly  to  the  arch  of  the  fire-place — the 
interstices  filled  with  great  lumps  of  coal. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  449 

Mr.  Tevis  had  traveled  through  that  region  as  an 
itinerant  preacher  long  years  before,  and  as  he  under- 
stood there  was  to  be  preaching  in  the  Methodist  Church, 
a  quarterly-meeting  being  in  progress,  immediately  after 
supper  he  went  to  Church,  and  there  met  many  of  his 
old  friends,  and,  at  their  earnest  request,  preached  for 
them.  They  urged  him  to  remain  several  days  in  this 
cozy  little  town,  which,  to  our  great  regret,  he  was 
obliged  to  decline  doing. 

The  night  spent  in  Jackson  was  one  to  be  remem- 
bered. When  introduced  into  our  sleeping  apartment  I 
was  amazed  to  find  no  covering  on  the  bed.  The  naked 
tick  presented  itself  to  my  eyes  without  the  slight  relief 
of  even  a  calico  spread. 

"What!"  said  I,  "do  you  intend  for  us  to  sleep 
without  a  cover?" 

"Oh,  no,"  replied  the  attendant,  and  raising  up  the 
corner-  of  the  bed-tick,  showed  beneath  it  thick,  warm 
blankets,  white  and  unsullied  as  newly  fallen  snow. 

The  feather-bed  was  the  outside  covering.  This  little 
woman  had  come  from  the  "Father-land."  That  night 
was  one  of  dreamless  rest. 

Early  the  next  morning  we  were  en  route  for  Chilli- 
cothe — a  merry  coach  full  of  rested  travelers,  not  a  sour- 
visaged  dyspeptic  among  us.  We  had  learned  one  lesson 
never  to  be  forgotten — in  all  conceivable  circumstances  it 
is  good  policy  physically,  morally,  and  religiously  to  be 
cheerful;  yea,  merry,  in  the  sense  that  Solomon  uses  the 
word,  "A  merry  heart  doeth  good  like  medicine."  Dis- 
content gains  nothing  for  soul  or  body.  Cheerfulness  is 
in  keeping  with  the  true  spirit  of  Christianity. 

We  hailed  with  delight  the  first  glimpse  of  Chilli- 
cothe  which  we  reached  before  sunset.  Sliding  over  the 


450  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

frozen  streets,  we  were  put  down  at  the  excellent  hotel 
of  Mr.  Medeira.  We  were  not  sorry  to  learn,  upon 
inquiry,  that  every  seat  in  the  stage  was  engaged  as  far 
as  Wheeling  for  days  to  come,  and  that  we  should  thus 
have  time  for  rest  and  recreation. 

Chillicothe  is  beautifully  situated,  and  makes  a  pleasing 
impression  upon  strangers.  We  were  there  under  what 
might  be  considered  unfavorable  circumstances.  The 
trees  stretched  forth  their  leafless  arms  towards  a  murky 
sky — icy  Winter  had  scattered  all  their  Summer  glories, 
not  a  leaf  or  a  bud  to  be  seen.  Yet  there  were  pretty 
buildings,  neatly  inclosed  yards,  clean  streets  regularly 
laid  out,  and,  best  of  all,  the  spirit  of  kindness  reigned 
pre-eminent  among  the  citizens.  Our  excellent  host  and 
hostess,  ever  on  "hospitable  thoughts  intent,"  made 
every  thing  subservient  to  the  comfort  of  their  guests. 

After  a  few  days  we  were  again  on  our  way,  not 
rejoicing  but  with  fear  and  trembling,  lest  we  should 
have  our  necks  broken.  The  weather  was  so  bitterly 
cold  the  stage-drivers  were  as  savage  and  as  surly  as 
polar  bears.  Poor  fellows,  I  could  not  help  pitying  them, 
though  they  were  so  awfully  wicked.  For  many,  many 
years  I  had  not  heard  an  oath,  and  these  men  swore  so 
constantly  and  so  horribly,  that  I  was  actually  afraid  of 
them,  and  felt  that  it  was  almost  wrong  for  us  to  travel 
under  such  guidance.  Meantime  we  moved  on  rapidly 
day  and  night,  always  finding  some  tolerable  refreshments 
at  the  post-houses,  until  we  reached  Wheeling,  where  we 
rested  and  slept  in  a  bed  for  the  first  time  after  leaving 
Chillicothe. 

We  had  rather  a  pleasant  trip  through  Pennsylvania, 
and  reached  Philadelphia  after  an  absence  of  three  weeks 
from  home.  The  cordiality  of  our  reception  by  friends 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  451 

and  relatives,  and  the  luxury  of  feeling  that  we  had  no 
more  difficulties  to  encounter,  fully  compensated  for  what 
we  had  endured.  Strangers  have  often  complained  of  a 
certain  reserve  and  formality  in  the  Philadelphians,  which 
I  failed  to  discover,  either  during  this  or  subsequent 
visits.  On  the  contrary,  I  think  the  permanently  settled 
inhabitants  of  the  city  possess,  in  an  eminent  degree,  the 
qualities  essential  to  friendship  and  genuine  politeness. 

It  is  a  great  mistake  to  suppose  that  hospitality  con- 
sists in  giving  sumptuous  feasts.  In  the  dress,  manners, 
habits,  accomplishments,  and  learning  of  these  people — 
indeed,  in  every  sphere  and  department  of  life,  public 
and  private,  was  seen  the  pervading,  beautiful,  and  honest 
simplicity  which  characterizes  the  "Friends."  And,  cer- 
tainly, the  spirit  and  principles  inculcated  by  William 
Penn  were  eminently  calculated  to  diffuse  harmony  and 
order,  to  systematize  society,  and  to  promote  tranquillity. 
I  have  been  in  Philadelphia  frequently,  but  have  never 
lost  the  agreeable  impressions  first  received. 

The  spirit  of  its  illustrious  founder  is  visible  in  all  the 
institutions  of  this  noble  city.  Homes  for  the  destitute, 
house  of  refuge  for  the  outcast,  hospitals  for  the  sick, 
and  benevolent  societies  in  every  direction  proclaim  the 
golden  rule  of  brotherly  love.  Charming  parks  and  open 
squares  refresh  the  heart  and  delight  the  eye  in  various 
parts  of  the  city.  These  are  free  to  all  classes.  Here 
the  weary  foot  may  rest  and  the  sorrowing  soul  forget, 
for  a  while,  the  heat  and  hurry  of  existence.  Here,  in 
Summer,  the  song  birds  hold  their  jubilee,  and  the  fra- 
grance of  flowers  floats  on  every  breeze.  Here,  amid 
the  laughter  of  gay  and  happy  children,  which  comes 
like  sweet  music  to  the  listening  heart,  persons  may  be 
seen  sitting  quietly  under  the  shade  trees,  reading  or 


452  JULIA  A,  TEVIS. 

watching  the  shifting  scenes  of  loveliness  by  which  they 
are  surrounded.  I  have  often  wished  that  our  beloved 
city  of  Louisville  were  so  blessed  with  breathing  lungs 
for  her  many  and  heart-burdened  population. 

The  days  flew  by  as  on  the  wings  of  the  wind — each 
full  of  interest,  instruction,  and  enjoyment.  Teachers 
should  travel  occasionally,  brush  off  the  dust  of  the 
school-room,  and  see  something  beyond  the  precincts  of 
its  limited  sphere.  Rational,  sensible  travel  corrects  false 
impressions,  enlarges  our  views,  and  increases  our  knowl- 
edge. The  mind  n.eeds  relaxation  after  months  of  con- 
stant exertion.  The  bow  must  be  unbent  now  and  then, 
or  it  will  snap  asunder.  Many  selfishly  seek  recreation 
without  having  earned  it — these  seldom  find  it  equal 
to  their  expectations. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  453 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

IN  the  garland  of  love  and  memory  woven  about  this 
period,  is  a  flower  of  surpassing  loveliness.  So  nat- 
ural and  without  disguise  was  the  character  of  Susan 
W.  Henning — so  child-like  her  innocence,  and  so  sweet 
her  timidity,  allied  to  a  tone  of  pervading  cheerfulness, 
that  the  girls  sought  her  companionship. 

"Her  speech  and  gesture,  form  and  grace, 
Showed  she  was  born  of  gentle  race." 

Yet  every  thought  of  practiced  effect  or  haughty  preten- 
sion was  foreign  to  her  nature.  Possessed  of  natural 
talent  and  that  pure  good  sense  which  originates  in  fine 
feeling,  she  was,  from  her  first  entrance  into  school,  a 
perfect  type  of  girlish  loveliness.  Obedience  to  rules, 
accuracy  and  clearness  of  recitation,  the  correct  style  of 
her  written  thoughts,  combined  with  a  propriety  of  de- 
meanor which  no  ill  example  could  overcome,  rendered 
her  a  model  pupil.  Her  countenance  wore  a  beautiful 
expression,  and  in  her  clear,  truthtful  eyes  was  mirrored 
an  elevated  soul. 

She  was  married  young  to  one  every  way  worthy  of 
such  a  prize.  Edward  Hobbs  won,  even  in  his  early 
manhood,  the  respect  and  esteem  of  all  who  knew  him; 
a  character  which  has  not  only  been  maintained,  but  has 
brightened  and  widened  into  an  earnest  goodness  that 
renders  him  an  acknowledged  benefactor. 

For  many  years  we  kept  up  the  custom  of  crowning 
a  "Rose  Queen"  in  May,  and  enjoying  a  holiday  in  the 


454  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

woods.  Happily  for  the  girls,  I  greeted  the  return  of 
the  festal  day  with  a  gladness  almost  equal  to  theirs,  for 
I  retained  enough  of  the  freshness  of  youth  in  my  heart 
to  enable  me  to  participate  with  zest  in  the  joys  of 
childhood. 

"Once  upon  a  time,"  after  a  long  severe  Winter, 
followed  by  a  Spring  of  unusual  beauty,  it  was  deter- 
mined to  celebrate  the  day  with  great  rejoicings.  The 
girls  were  wild  with  delight  at  the  prospect  of  a  whole 
day's  release  from  slates,  books,  and  blackboards  —  a 
charming  episode  in  the  drudgery  of  their  every-day  life. 
Ah,  happy  children!  to  whom  every  glimpse  of  nature  is 
beautiful,  and  every  blade  of  grass  a  marvel!  Give  them 
ever  so  small  a  bit  of  green  meadow  checkered  with  sun- 
shine and  shade  upon  which  to  revel  among  buttercups 
and  daisies,  and  "little  they'll  reck"  how  the  world 
goes  on. 

There  was  but  little  opportunity  for  canvassing  or 
intrigue  in  the  election  of  Queen.  Fanny  Henning  was 
chosen  by  acclamation  as  best  fitted  to  grace  the  regal 
authority.  Fanny  possessed  a  mind  and  a  character  as 
transparent  as  a  clear  brook.  Her  ingenuous  face,  her 
self-forgetting  and  amiable  bearing  towards  her  compan- 
ions made  her  the  loved  and  cherished  of  them. all.  She 
also  held  a  distinguished  place  in  the  estimation  of  her 
teachers  for  superior  excellence,  dutiful  affection,  and 
modest  deportment.  Thus  it  was  universally  conceded 
that  "Fair-handed  Spring"  might  well  resign  to  Fanny 
her  sovereignty  for  one  day  over  the  brilliant  treasures 
of  garden,  glade,  and  forest,  awakened  into  life  and 
brightened  into  beauty  by  her  magic  wand. 

The  rosy  hours  followed  each  other  in  quick  succes- 
sion until  within  a  few  days  of  the  anticipated  time, 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  455 

when  lo!  the  "queen  elect"  broke  out  with  measles. 
The  whole  school  was  filled  with  dismay,  bitter  tears  of 
disappointment  were  shed  by  some;  others  predicted 
that  she  would  be  well  enough  to  go  through  the  cere- 
mony. Fanny,  uniting  in  their  hopeful  aspirations,  pre- 
pared her  coronation  speech  and  rehearsed  it  to  perfec- 
tion, for,  though  confined  to  her  room,  she  was  not 
really  ill.  On  the  eve  of  the  appointed  day,  however, 
the  doctor  pronounced  her  too  feeble  to  endure  the 
fatigue.  What  was  to  be  done?  The  trophies  of  many 
loyal  hearts  were  ready  to  be  laid  at  the  feet  of  the 
queen.  Spirit  hands  seemed  dispensing  blessings,  and 
guardian  angels  extending  their  wings  over  these  health- 
ful, happy  girls  as  they  diligently  wrought  sparkling 
wreaths  and  arranged  beautiful  bouquets. 

The  banners  were  prepared,  the  white  dresses  were 
trimmed  with  evergreen.  The  Seasons,  the  maids  of 
honor,  and  all  the  officials  were  in  waiting,  but  "Hamlet 
could  not  be  left  out  of  the  play.  One  modest  little  girl, 
after  listening  in  silence  to  the  suggestions  of  the  others, 
raised  her  eyes  to  my  face  and  said  hesitatingly: 

"Can't  Emma  Maxwell  be  queen  in  Fanny's  place?" 

"Oh,  no!"  said  another;  "she  could  not  possibly 
learn  the  speech  in  time." 

"No,  indeed!"  exclaimed  several  voices  at  once,  "that 
would  be  impossible;  but  she  might  read  it." 

"Yes,  yes!  let  her  read  it;  the  queen's  speeches  are 
read  in  Parliament!" 

"Will  you  accept  the  proposition?"  said  I,  turning 
to  Emma. 

"I  think  I  can  learn  it,"  she  replied,  "and  will  try  if 
you  wish  it." 

The  coronation  was  to  take  place  the  next  morning  at 


456  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

ten  o'clock.  A  previous  rehearsal  would  be  impossible; 
but  what  Emma  proudly  determined  to  do  was  gener- 
ally accomplished. 

The  evening  star  looked  out  bright  and  clear  in  the 
blue  deep,  thrilling  the  hearts  of  these  young  girls  with 
the  prospect  of  a  pleasant  morrow. 

Most  of  them  were  stirring  before  sunrise.  "Is  it 
clear?"  "Are  we  going?"  And  from  every  room  issued 
the  sound  of  cheerful  voices;  and  then  such  shouts,  such 
hurrying  and  bathing  and  dressing  as  was  seldom  known 
before. 

Ten  o'clock  came,  and  the  yard,  where  the  temporary 
throne  was  erected,  was  soon  filled  with  spectators  and 
invited  guests,  mingling  with  the  children  and  partic- 
ipating in  their  pleasure.  The  proxy  queen  bore  her 
blushing  honors  meekly,  going  through  all  the  coronation 
ceremonies  with  a  charming  dignity.  She  stood  Calypso- 
like  among  her  train  of  attendants  in  full  view  of  the 
audience  who  listened  in  breathless  silence  .to  her  ad- 
dress. I  watched  her  closely;  she  seemed  to  plant  her 
feet  firmly,  as  if  to  still  the  beatings  of  her  heart;  no 
gesture  except  a  gentle  motion  of  the  right  arm  as  she 
swayed  her  scepter  majestically  around,  her  eyes  steadily 
fixed  upon  some  object  beyond,  with  which  she  seemed 
completely  absorbed.  Not  a  word  was  misplaced,  not  a 
sentence  omitted,  of  a  speech  long  enough  for  a  Parlia- 
mentary harangue.  No  one  prompted,  nor  did  she  once 
turn  her  eyes  towards  the  scroll  she  held  in  her  left-hand. 
Enthusiastic  and  excessive  were  the  rejoicings  of  her 
juvenile  auditors. 

Fanny  witnessed  the  whole  ceremony  through  a  con- 
venient window  which  framed  for  her  a  living  picture  of 
ineffable  beauty,  and  on  this  clear  day,  with  only  a  few 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  457 

white  Spring  clouds  floating  over  the  bluest  of  skies,  it 
was  a  sight  of  earth  that  makes  one  understand  heaven. 

The  Seasons  followed  in  quick  succession,  proffering 
homage  to  the  queen;  then  came  the  "rosy  Hours"  with 
their  sweet-toned  voices,  and  the  ceremony  was  completed 
by  a  few  words  from  "Fashion  and  Modesty,"  the  latter 
gently  pushing  the  former  aside,  and  casting  a  veil  over 
the  burning  blushes  of  the  queen.  The  address  being 
finished,  queen  and  attendants  walked  in  procession  to  a 
grove  that  skirted  the  town,  where  beauty  filled  the  eye, 
and  singing  birds  warbled  sweet  music.  When  tired  of 
play,  a  more  substantial  entertainment  was  provided. 
Group  after  group  spread  the  white  cloth  on  the  soft 
green  turf,  and  surrounded  the  plentiful  repast,  gratefully 
acknowledging  the  Hand  that  supplies  our  wants  from 
day  to  day.  He  who  called  our  attention  to  the  "lilies 
of  the  field,"  stamps  a  warrant  of  sacredness  upon  our 
rejoicings,  in  all  that  he  has  made. 

There  was  something  very  remarkable  in  the  quickness 
and  facility  with  which  Emma  Maxwell  memorized  the 
queen's  speech.  She  was  a  girl  of  more  than  ordinary 
vivacity,  of  a  highly  imaginative,  impressionable  nature, 
and  seemed  to  have  the  gift  of  bewitching  all  who  knew 
her.  She  occupied  a  commanding  position  in  her  class  as 
a  good  reciter,  but  I  had  not  hitherto  noticed  any  great 
facility  in  memorizing.  I  called  her  the  next  day,  and 
asked  her  to  recite  the  piece  to  me  alone.  She  stared 
rather  vacantly  at  me,  and  said : 

"I  can  not  remember  a  sentence  of  it." 

''What!  when  you  repeated  it  with  so  much  facility 
yesterday!  Explain  yourself." 

"I  do  not  know  how  it  is,"  she  replied,  "that  though 
T  can  learn  with  the  utmost  precision,  mechanically, 


45 8  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

whatever  I  choose,  in  a  short  time,  yet  under  such  cir- 
cumstances my  memory  has  not  the  power  of  retention. 
If  my  train  of  repetition  had  been  interrupted  for  one 
moment  yesterday,  I  should  have  failed  utterly." 

"What  were  you  looking  at  so  intently  the  whole 
time?" 

"I  was  looking  at  certain  objects  about  the  yard  and 
house,  in  connection  with  which  I  had  studied  the  speech 
the  evening  before." 

"Yes;  but  you  certainly  can  repeat  some  portion  of 
it  to  me?" 

"  Not  one  sentence  connectedly;  it  has  all  passed  from 
my  mind  like  a  shadow  on  the  wall." 

Yet  she  was  a  girl  of  good  judgment,  read  much, 
talked  well,  and  possessed  in  an  eminent  degree  the 
indispensable  requisite  of  a  good  memory  —  power  of 
attention. 

The  unfolding  drama  of  my  school  life  introduces  an- 
other May  Queen  of  more  than  ordinary  interest  as 
connected  with  so  many  pleasant  remembrances,  a  gem 
in  my  heart's  casket,  that  still  gleams  with  a  steady  lus- 
ter. Margaret  Thorpe  bore  for  many  years  an  intimate 
relation  to  Science  Hill,  first  as  a  pupil,  then  as  a 
teacher, — her  never-tiring  mind  going  on  from  strength 
to  strength  until  she  stood  firmly  on  the  platform,  a  suc- 
cessful teacher.  If  I  may  claim  credit  for  the  results 
reached  in  the  education  of  this  estimable  person,  I 
flatter  myself  that  I  should  have  in  that  fact  an  enduring 
monument  of  the  value  of  my  efforts. 

Mary  Hamilton  bore  the  sobriquet  of  "Lexington," 
her  place  of  residence,  to  distinguish  her  from  another 
of  the  same  name.  Her  name  is  embalmed  among  the 
most  pleasant  memories  of  Science  Hill.  Her  cheerful 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  459 

smile  and  cordial  "Good-morning,"  the  introduction  to 
her  well-learned  lesson,  rendered  her  particularly  agreea- 
ble in  the  class-room,  —  a  sweet  young  girl,  gentle  and 
timid  as  a  fawn,  her  dove-like  eyes  half-veiled  by  silken 
lashes,  with  the  form  of  a  sylph  and  the  foot  of  a  fairy, 
yet  possessing  firmness  of  purpose  and  energy  of  mind, 
combined  with  perfect  self-reliance.  She  was  neat,  good, 
and  industrious,  and  I  do  not  remember  that  it  was  ever 
necessary  to  chide,  reprove,  or  punish  her  while  a  mem- 
ber of  our  school. 

"How  sweet  the  recollection  of  such  girls,"  forming 
precious  bouquets,  redolent  with  "rosemary  for  remem- 
brance and  pansies  for  thought,"  in  which  the  purity  of 
the  lily  is  combined  with  the  softest  bloom  of  the  rose! 
'T  is  like  the  perfume  of  sweet  violets,  floating  around 
the  senses  in  a  dream  of  beauty. 

Many  a  region  of  still  life  is  illustrated  with  unosten- 
tatious goodness.  The  great  virtues  do  not  blaze  forth 
to  the  admiration  of  the  public  eye,  —  they  often  pass 
away,  altogether  unknown  and  unacknowledged  beyond 
their  own  neighborhood  till  s  ome  stray  gold-dust  floats 
down  before  the  eye,  and  guides  it  to  a  mine  of  moral 
wealth  and  worth. 


460  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

WHEN  I  first  commenced  teaching,  want  of  experi- 
ence, and  a  great  desire  to  be  faithful  in  the 
performance  of  my  duties,  made  me  confine  my  pupils 
too  many  hours  to  the  dull  routine  of  books.  Neither 
did  I  spare  myself;  my  mind  wanted  discipline,  and  thus 
its  work  was  never  done.  I  could  not  dismiss  my  cares 
and  annoyances  when  I  dismissed  my  school.  Not  only 
my  daily  thoughts,  but  my  nightly  dreams,  were  of  the 
school-room  and  the  peculiar  emergencies  of  my  position. 
Exhaustion,  weariness,  and  anxiety,  combined  with  £hat 
constant  vigilance  necessarily  emanating  from  the  central 
authority  to  the  continually  extending  circumference  of  a 
large  school,  more  than  once  brought  me  to  the  verge 
of  the  grave. 

The  academical  year  of  1839  closed  without  any  defi- 
nite prospect  of  reopening  the  school;  if  ever,  again 
under  my  superintendence.  Just  here  let  me  give  the 
result  of  my  experience,  in  the  sure  conviction  that  six 
hours  daily  devoted  to  the  work  of  teaching  and  con- 
trolling a  school  is  quite  as  much  as  either  teacher  or 
pupil  can  bear  without  detriment  to  bodily  health  and 
that  general  intellectual  progress  which  is  the  end  and 
aim  of  instruction;  and  even  this  could  not  be  borne 
without  that  change  of  employment  which  sometimes 
takes  the  place  of  recreation. 

My  conscientiousness  permitted  too  little  relaxation, 
and  the  school  up  to  this  period  was,  as  a  friend  expressed 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  461 

it,  a  "perfect  flint -mill."  Under  the  gloomy  prospect 
just  referred  to  our  first  catalogue  was  published, — a 
diminutive  pamphlet  of  six  pages,  closing  with  a  few 
remarks,  and  promising  that  in  due  time  the  opening  of 
the  next  term  should  be  made  known  to  the  public. 

Traveling  had  benefited  me  under  like  circumstances. 
Physicians  and  friends  decided  that  I  must  go  and  leave 
all  perplexing  cares  behind  me.  My  longing  heart  turned 
towards  the  mountains  of  Virginia,  and  thither  we  went. 
My  health  improved  daily  after  reaching  those  elevated 
regions  around  which  floats  an  atmosphere  pure  as  ether, 
and  youth  and  strength  seemed  "renewed  like  the 
eagles."  I  drank  in  new  life  from  every  surrounding. 
The  old-fashioned  coach  was  filled  with  cheerful,  happy 
passengers,  and  as  we  wended  our  way  leisurely  onward 
over  lofty  mountains,  "with  their  silent  shades  and  arbors 
darkly  wreathed,"  a  fountain  of  enjoyment  was  unsealed, 
whence  flowed  an  exhilarating  current,  sparkling  as  nectar. 
The  soul  is  like  a  harp,  with  capabilities  for  plaintive, 
joyous,  or  solemn  music;  and  when  beauty,  with  its 
train,  sweeps  over  it,  it  murmurs  a  response,  chanting, 
like  the  choristers  of  old,  praises  to  Him  who  fashioned 
the  heavens  with  their  glory  and  the  earth  with  its  beauty. 

After  a  few  weeks  of  travel  and  delightful  sojourning 
among  friends  and  relatives,  we  were  home  again,  with 
renewed  health  and  strength.  "The  Lord  had  been  with 
us  and  kept  us  by  the  way,"  and  with  grateful  hearts  we 
earnestly  prayed  that  henceforth  our  united  lives  might 
be  a  continued  hymn  of  praise  to  our  Heavenly  Father. 

Again  the  school  opened  under  prosperous  circum- 
stances, and,  having  been  successful  in  securing  able 
and  competent  teachers,  my  own  cares  were  lessened, 

and  obstacles  vanished  like  the  airy  fabric  of  a  dream. 

30 


462  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

A  well-established  institution  of  learning,  with  an 
unblemished  reputation,  and  extensively  known,  can  never 
die  if  God's  blessing  rest  upon  it.  Languish  it  may 
occasionally, — ephemeral  schools  may  spring  up  with  a 
mushroom  growth,  only  to  perish  after  the  lapse  of  a  few 
years.  A  good  school  must  be  permanent,  and  will  be 
sustained  in  spfte  of  the  fickleness  of  popular  favor ;  but 
the  great  fault  with  many  teachers  is  want  of  patience 
with  the  order  of  nature, — they  can  not  wait  for  the 
changes.  Time  is  requisite  for  the  accomplishment  of 
any  great  work,  and  many  failures  are  attributable  to  that 
feverish  impatience  which  characterizes  some  worthy 
enterprise.  Much  is  due,  under  Providence,  in  the  suc- 
cess of  this  school,  to  the  unwearied  perseverance  of 
both  teachers  and  pupils.  Multitudes  are  only  half  ed- 
ucated for  want  of  patience  and  perseverance  to  pursue  a 
course,  the  chief  difficulties  of  which  they  have  already 
overcome.  Patience  under  great  discouragements  is  an 
attribute  of  exalted  characters,  and  one  of  the  essential 
conditions  of  success  in  all  the  chief  pursuits  in  life. 

I  have  learned  to  know,  by  long  experience,  that  ' '  it 
is  the  twig,  the  tender  shoot,  which  is  bent,  and  not  the 
full-grown  tree,"  and  I  have  also  learned  another  fact, 
which  seems  in  our  "fast  age"  unknown  or  unrecognized 
by  many,  and  that  is  that  in  four  years  a  complete 
college  course,  embracing  all  the  sciences  and  many  of 
the  languages,  can  not  possibly  be  accomplished.  Schol- 
ars, who  at  the  age  of  "sweet  sixteen"  are  deficient  in 
spelling,  deficient  in  the  pronunciation  of  their  own  lan- 
guage, and  incapable  of  writing  a  letter  grammatically, 
and  without  being  able  to  bound  the  United  States  or  to 
name  the  principal  cities  in  the  Union  !  Think  you  such, 
or  even  those  more  advanced  in  an  English  course,  could 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  463 

acquire  even  in  a  dozen  years  what  is  professed  to  be 
taught  in  many  of  our  most  distinguished  female  colleges 
in  a  four  years'  course?  that  which  would  fit  them  for 
statesmen,  doctors,  lawyers,  or  any  other  position  in  pub- 
lic life?  The  absurdity  is  palpable. 

Thus  I  have  never  proposed  a  full  collegiate  course  for 
my  pupils,  and  I  glory  in  the  old-fashioned  name  of 
"Academy,"  which  I  think  includes  a  full  requisition 
of  all  that  is  necessary  to  make  an  elegant,  cultivated, 
refined  woman  for  society,  and  fit  her  for  the  higher 
duties  of  home  life, — like  Cornelia,  displaying  her  jewels 
around  the  fireside,  and  fitting  them  not  only  for  the 
outer  world  of  to-day,  but  to  send  rays  of  light  through 
ages  to  come. 

When  will  we  learn  this  truth,  that  women  should  be 
the  best  economists  of  time  and  best  fitted  to  dispense 
those  blessings  of  home  life  which  are  given  to  us  through 
them  by  our  Heavenly  Father?  Some  blessings  are 
bestowed  upon  us  in  clusters  like  the  fruits  of  the  vine; 
but  time,  the  golden  elixir  of  life,  is  poured  upon  us  drop 
by  drop,  minute  by  minute,  one  is  gone  before  another 
is  bestowed. 

In  the  administration  of  an  institution  so  large  as 
ours  promised  to  be  from  the  beginning  of  1840,  so  varied 
in  its  departments  of  learning  and  arduous  and  unremit- 
ting in  its  duties,  it  was  found  necessary  to  make  some 
changes  and  improvements  for  its  future  success.  This 
was  promptly  attended  to  and  its  onward  course  was 
marked  by  uninterrupted  prosperity.  A  thousand  recol- 
lections crowd  upon  my  mind  as  memory  retraces  the 
scenes  of  my  pathway  dating  from  the  re-opening  of  my 
school  in  1840,  so  that  I  am  bewildered  as  to  choice. 
My  work  would  be  too  voluminous,  and  time  would  fail  me. 


464  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

My  cares  and  sorrows,  troubles  and  perplexities  are 
forgotten  as  I  gaze  on  the  number  of  interesting  young 
girls  passing  in  review.  Some  have  gone  home  after 
having  finished  their  work  on  earth,  leaving  the  assurance 
of  a  blessed  immortality,  "where  their  works  do  follow 
them;"  others  still  live  to  show  the  good  effects  of  a 
well-cultivated  mind,  and  to  preside  with  wisdom  and 
dignity  in  well-ordered  homes,  and  to  show  forth  by  their 
example  how  beautifully  a  moral  and  religious  education 
affects  the  soul.  It  is  a  well-known  fact  that  true  piety 
and  virtue  shine  with  double  luster  when  the  intellectual 
faculties  are  well  cultivated. 

While  many  a  lovely  vision  has  passed  away,  and 
many  a  sacred  record  shines  but  in  the  moonlight  of 
memory;  yet  few,  very  few  of  the  pictures  in  the  gallery 
of  my  school  life  have  been  obliterated,  and  often  now, 
in  the  twilight  of  life's  evening,  the  magic  touch  of  some 
connecting  link  brings  up  before  me  form  after  form, 
with  the  intensity  of  a  life-like  presence.  O  beautiful 
memory!  How  delightful  to  build  our  recollections  upon 
some  basis  of  reality — a  lovely  face,  an  interesting  scene, 
a  beautiful  country,  a  local  habitation!  How  the  events 
of  life  and  its  thrilling  scenes  vibrate  through  our  very 
being!  We  look  back  upon  the  well-remembered  family 
group  with  its  rays  of  golden  sunshine  lighting  up  the 
happy  faces;  we  see,  too,  before  us  here  and  there,  dim 
and  silent  places  always  shaded  with  darker  hues  to  us — 
where  sorrowful  remembrance  weeps  forevermore,  and 
from  whence  arises  a  resurrection  light  which  mingles 
with  the  full  blaze  of  an  eternal  day. 

The  constitution  of  every  good  school  is  an  absolute 
monarchy,  but  under  the  control  of  moral  principle  which 
must  be  the  guiding  power,  as  far  as  possible,  in  the 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  465 

government  of  its  subjects.  The  more  tenderly  the  feel- 
ings of  the  young  are  handled  the  more  sensitive  they 
will  become;  the  mildest  reproof  given  to  a  timid  girl  in 
the  hearing  of  her  companions,  is  often  a  punishment 
greater  than  she  can  bear.  Rough  treatment  is  calculated 
to  harden  and  stupefy  some  who  might  be  saved  By  a 
different  course.  A  public  exposure  may  so  destroy  the 
sensitiveness  as  to  render  the  subject  of  such  treatment 
impervious  to  admonition  or  reproof. 

The  superiority  of  a  teacher  does  not  consist  in  making 
her  pupils  fear  and  tremble,  but  rather  in  securing  their 
own  self-respect  and  making  them  feel  that  the  end 
of  good  government  is  to  promote  their  comfort  and 
improvement.  An  effectual  way  to  insure  the  good  will 
of  pupils  is  to  keep  them  interested  in  their  studies.  No 
drones  should  ever  be  tolerated.  Idleness  at  any  period 
of  life  is  dangerous  to  virtue,  but  more  to  be  dreaded  in 
youth  than  at  any  other  season ;  therefore,  never  let  a 
school-girl  have  time  to  count  the  flies  on  the  wall  of  her 
study-room  or  gaze  at  surrounding  objects.  Keep  the 
mental  powers  active  and  awake,  and  never  allow  them  to 
be  without  a  sufficient  sphere  of  operation  within  the 
limits  of  their  capacity,  else  they  will  become  headstrong, 
fickle,  vain,  self-sufficient,  averse  to  consideration,  intent 
upon  the  present  moment,  regardless  of  the  future,  for- 
getful of  the  past,  and  fit  subjects  for  temptation. 

Some  teachers  in  striving  to  impress  their  pupils  with 
their  own  infallibility  by  professing  to  know  every  thing, 
lose  that  confidence  which  they  are  striving  to  secure. 
Let  children  know  that  it  is  not  universal  acquisition,  but 
a  well-balanced  mind  and  fixed  principles  of  action  and 
systematic  habits  that  distinctly  mark  the  boundary 
between  knowledge  and  ignorance. 


466  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

A  well-organized  and  well-governed  school  greatly 
diminishes  the  trouble  of  teaching.  Cheerfulness,  order, 
industry,  and  propriety  of  conduct  are  essential  to  the 
highest  interests  of  the  school.  No  disorder  of  books  or 
desks,  no  leaving  seats  without  liberty,  no  communi- 
cat%ns  either  by  whispering  or  otherwise,  except  by 
express  permission  of  the  presiding  teacher,  should  be 
the  inviolable  law  of  the  study-room. 

I  have  said  there  must  be  but  one  supreme  controlling 
head  in  every  school,  thus  preventing  jealousy  among 
teachers  and  insubordination  among  pupils.  But  in  a 
large  school,  where  there  are  several  teachers,  each 
should  be  the  supreme  ruler  in  his  or  her  department ; 
there  should  be  no  appeal  to  the  principal  except  for 
consultation.  A  meeting  of  the  teachers  is  desirable 
now  and  then  to  compare  notes.  A  perfect  unanimity 
should  exist;  one  single  jarring  string  destroys  the 
harmony  and  clogs  the  onward  progress  of  the  pupils. 

Children  love  to  work,  and  nothing  charms  them  more 
than  to  be  made  to  feel  their  importance.  I  have  often 
endeared  a  young  girl  to  me  by  asking  her  assistance, 
and  many  an  idle  one  have  I  made  industrious  by  rinding 
her  something  to  do  for  others,  when  she  was  unwill- 
ing to  work  for  herself.  A  personal  attachment  of  the 
warmest  kind  may  thus  be  awakened  between  teacher 
and  pupil.  We  must  be  careful,  however,  while  asking 
the  assistance  of  some  and  showing  an  honest  gratifica- 
tion for  the  assistance  rendered,  not  to  awaken  the 
jealousy  of  others.  I  have  seen  the  happiest  results 
attending  judicious  measures  of  this  kind.  The  time  is 
well  spent,  even  if  the  regular  course  of  study  be  inter- 
rupted, when  we  can  induce  our  pupils  to  act  in  concert 
with  us,  and  make  them  feel  how  much  pleasanter  it  is  to 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  467 

co-operate  than  to  thwart  and  oppose;  yet  whenever 
reproof  or  correction  is  necessary,  the  teacher  must  be 
a  throned  monarch;  look  on  the  favorable  side  as  far  as 
is  consistent  with  duty,  but  be  ever  ready  with  an  efficient 
hand  to  arrest  evil. 

I  have  had  very  many  excellent  assistant  teachers  of 
both  sexes,  superior  in  tact  and  successful  in  their  voca- 
tion, yet  I  do  not  hesitate  to  give  it  as  my  decided  opinion 
that  women  are  the  best,  the  most  patient,  and  the  most 
successful  teachers  save,  perhaps,  in  the  higher  and  more 
abstruse  sciences,  which  belong  to  the  learned  profes- 
sions. They  are  certainly  better  fitted  to  govern  a  female 
school. 

Several  are  now  passing  in  review  before  me,  each 
possessing  those  excellent  qualities  and  high  credentials 
that  fitted  her  for  the  lot  assigned  her  by  Providence — a 
model  of  patient  industry  and  untiring  interest  in  her 
vocation.  One  I  must  detain  as  an  example  of  all  a 
teacher  should  be;  she  rises  in  queenly  dignity,  pre- 
eminently successful  in  her  vocation,  upon  which  she 
entered  in  the  morning  of  life.  Thoroughly  educated 
and  intelligent,  she  rapidly  acquired  those  qualifications 
that  fitted  her  peculiarly  for  this  delicate  and  elevated 
position,  which  she  continued  to  occupy.  Like  the 
Roman  emperor  she  considered  a  day  lost  in  which  some 
good  was  not  done  or  acquired.  Her  personal  appear- 
ance prepossessing  in  the  highest  degree,  with  a  voice 
low  and  sweet,  yet  clear  and  distinct;  manners  dignified 
and  reserved,  though  never  cold  nor  repellent,  she 
impressed  favorably  upon  first  sight,  and  never  failed 
to  insure  esteem  and  confidence  upon  more  intimate 
acquaintance. 

A  magical  reformation  was  produced  by  her  connec- 


468  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

tion  with  our  school,  particularly  in  the  department 
where  she  presided,  system  and  order  followed  her  foot- 
steps as  naturally  as  flowers  rise  up  under  the  elastic 
tread  of  Spring.  I  have  never  known  this  lady  teacher 
to  use  harsh  language  or  reproachful  epithets.  She 
proceeds  cautiously  and  tenderly,  but  with  an  air  of 
uncompromising  authority  and  power.  When  reproof  is 
necessary  and  forbearance  no  longer  a  virtue,  her  tone 
and  manner  become  those  of  a  judge — decisive,  not 
persuasive. 

Faithful  teachers  will  never  be  satisfied  simply  to 
hear  recitations,  to  keep  the  order  of  the  classes,  and  to 
impress  the  contents  of  text-books.  These  are  parts  of 
their  vocation,  but  with  a  solemn  sense  of  the  worth 
of  immortal  souls  they  will  strive  to  provide  their  pupils 
with  moral  and  religious,  as  well  as  intellectual,  work- 
habits,  principles,  and  affections  that  make  life  beautiful 
and  death  a  messenger  of  peace. 

If  it  be  true  that  memory  is  but  little  more  than 
fixed  attention,  the  faculty  of  attention  should  be  culti- 
vated from  the  dawn  of  reason  as  the  key  to  knowledge. 
Children  should  be  taught  that  it  is  morally  wrong  to 
forget  what  they  are  expected  to  remember.  It  is 
inexcusable  in  a  student  to  utter  the  phrase,  "I  have 
forgotten,"  without  sorrow  and  a  fixed  resolution  to 
prevent  its  recurrence  if  possible. 

Great  care  will  be  taken  by  a  good  teacher  to  cultivate 
the  powers  of  expression  and  correct  pronunciation.  A 
bungling,  unintelligible  answer  should  never  be  received. 
Under  no  circumstances  ought  we  to  accept  the  common 
excuse,  "I  know,  but  can  not  tell,"  for  if  any  one  knows 
he  can  tell  it — and  tell  it  just  as  well  as  he  knows  it. 
An  instructor  who  has  the  tact  to  awaken  interest  and 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  469 

inspire  a  class  with  enthusiasm  by  a  lively  and  interesting 
style  of  teaching  is  a  blessing  to  the  school-room.  If 
wanting  in  the  ability  to  do  this,  he  is  mistaken  in  his 
calling  and  should  seek  another  occupation. 

Prompting  should  be  considered  as  a  punishable 
offense.  In  the  first  place  it  prevents  that  moral  courage 
and  independence  which  gives  a  pupil  self-respect;  it 
encourages  idleness  and,  worse  than  all,  the  habit  of 
deception.  Recitations  should  always  be  mingled  with 
explanations.  I  never  could  confine  myself  to  a  text- 
book, and,  with  my  advanced  pupils,  have  been  in  the 
constant  habit  of  reading  selections  from  standard  authors, 
ancient  and  modern. 

Next  to  reading  and  orthography  comes  a  clear  and 
beautiful  penmanship — graceful  and  easy  to  be  read. 
Too  much  attention  can  not  be  given  to  these.  My  own 
handwriting  is  remarkably  distinct,  clear,  and  smooth 
even  at  the  age  of  sixty-eight.  This  is  due,  not  only  to 
early  and  constant  attention,  but  to  the  fact  of  having 
been  obliged  to  copy  much  for  others.  I  was  the  aman- 
uensis of  my  father  from  the  age  of  twelve  to  twenty. 

What  is  the  best  method  of  teaching  the  art  of  com- 
position? This  question  has  frequently  been  asked,  and 
many  have  expressed  the  decided  opinion  that  it  is  best 
not  to  attempt  the  carrying  out  of  any  particular  rules, 
leaving  circumstances  to  direct.  This  is  equivalent  to 
letting  it  alone  altogether. 

After  trying  various  methods  suggested  by  my  own 
experience,  I  long  ago  settled  upon  the  plan  of  requiring 
original  specimens  from  the  hands  of  even  the  youngest 
writers,  no  matter  how  simple  in  form  and  expression. 
Do  not  look  for  faults  to  correct.  Little  inaccuracies,  at 
first,  must  be  passed  over;  this  gives  confidence  to  young 


470  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

composers.  Encourage  them  to  tell  the  first  things  they 
can  remember,  to  relate  whatever  made  an  impression  on 
the  mind  when  young.  Pass  over  all  that  you  may  with 
propriety.  Do  not  criticise  their  feeble  efforts  before  the 
class,  where  all  compositions  must  be  read  by  the  com- 
poser, or  you  will  check  the  free  growth  of  thought  and 
the  increased  power  of  expression.  Such  indulgence 
takes  away  all  excuse  from  even  the  least  informed.  The 
most  timid  girl  may  be  prevailed  upon  to  write  some 
little  anecdote  of  her  own  life,  and  that  which  at  first 
seems  so  unconquerable  and  difficult  becomes  a  source 
of  interest  and  amusement.  After  these  compositions 
have  been  read  before  the  class,  correct  them  privately 
with  the  writer,  pointing  out  the  false  orthography, 
ungrammatical  expressions,  and  other  errors.  I  have 
been  surprised  at  the  increased  facility  acquired  by  this 
judicious  management. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  471 


CHAPTER  XL. 

MANY  a  bright  young  face  rises  before  me  connected 
with  these  happy,  busy  days;  now  and  then  one 
calls  for  something  more  than  a  passing  glance. 

A  fair-faced  child  with  a  profusion  of  rich,  auburn 
hair,  than  whom  none  has  made  a  deeper  impression 
upon  my  heart,  came  to  me  from  Clarke  County,  the 
land  of  my  birth.  School  life  was  rendered  pleasant  to 
this  little  lassie  by  the  cultivation  of  kind  affections  to- 
ward her  school-mates  and  respectful  obedience  to  her 
teachers.  With  a  step  light  and  springy,  a  ready  dispo- 
sition to  oblige  and  always  merry-hearted,  she  soon  be- 
came a  prime  favorite. 

When  Amanda  first  entered  school,  she  was  particu- 
larly pleased  with  her  own  performance  on  the  piano, 
and  never  lost  an  opportunity  of  displaying  her  acquire- 
ments. Her  laughter-loving  companions,  infinitely  amused 
at  her  childish  vanity,  would  frequently  smuggle  her  away 
into  a  retired  music-room,  and,  while  she  played,  would 
loudly  applaud.  This  continued  to  delight  the  little  girl 
immensely,  until  she  discovered,  upon  one  occasion,  that 
they  were  amusing  themselves  at  her  expense.  She 
darted  ofif,  and  no  persuasions  could  ever  again  prevail 
upon  her  to  play  for  them,  and  indeed  it  made  her  reluc- 
tant for  a  long  time  to  touch  the  piano  at  all. 

Among  her  most  pleasing  and  attractive  qualities  was 
her  power  of  lively  description.  Possessing  a  wonderful 
memory,  she  never  forgot  persons,  places,  or  things. 


472  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

Thus  her  mind  was  stored  with  pleasing  incidents  and 
amusing  ancecdotes,  rendering  her  an  agreeable  compan- 
ion at  home  and  abroad. 

Why  is  it  that  many  "would-be  favorites"  are  slow 
to  learn  that  pleasant  looks,  affectionate  words,  and 
obliging  deeds,  not  only  render  them  lovely  but  beloved? 
These  characteristics,  with  their  quiet,  but  infallible  trac- 
ings, make  the  unfading  pictures  in  life's  book  of  beauty, 
which  diffuse  over  the  whole  countenance  a  coloring  of 
inexpressible  loveliness,  and,  even  in  extreme  old  age, 
are  the  last  remembrances  that  time  effaces  from  the 
mind. 

Mere  personal  attractions  are  nothing  compared  with 
that  soul-beauty  beaming  forth  even  in  childhood,  like 
the  flashing  rays  of  the  uncut  diamond.  I  learned  to  love 
this  little  maiden  very  dearly.  Often  when  wearied  with 
the  bustling  perplexities  of  school  she  was  the  privileged 
one  who  glided  into  my  room,  and,  with  her  smiling  face 
and  gentle,  prattling  voice,  soothed  the  throbbings  of  my 
restless  heart. 

This  child  of  brilliant  promise  did  not  disappoint  the 
hopes  of  teacher  and  friends.  She  grew  up  an  elegant 
woman,  as  remarkable  for  wit  and  refinement  of  manners 
as  for  her  Christian  graces — bearing  no  obscure  handwrit- 
ing on  lip  or  brow. 

Children  may  be  denominated  creatures  of  imitation, 
and  upon  this  instinctive  faculty  more  depends  in  the 
formation  of  habits  and  character  throughout  the  whole 
course  of  life  than  upon  almost  any  other.  Conscience 
must  be  enlightened  and  settled  on  proper  authority;  it 
must  be  corrected  and  strengthened,  and  rendered  quite 
unbending  to  every  influence  and  temptation  from  the 
association  of  company,  passion,  or  interest. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  473 

Young  imaginations  are  so  easily  wrought  upon,  that 
not  only  pernicious  books  and  unhealthy  literature  should 
be  carefully  eschewed,  but  the  associations  promptly  and 
constantly  attended  to.  The  good  or  bad  influences  to 
which  girls  may  be  subjected  tell  for  weal  or  woe  upon 
their  future.  Of  all  the  unnumbered  mercies  of  Provi- 
dence, none  are  greater,  or  more  affecting  in  the  recollec- 
tion, than  those  which  I  received  ere  yet  a  light  from 
above  shone  into  my  heart.  In  the  peculiar  gift  of  com- 
panionship I  was  often  preserved  from  imprudence  by  the 
warning  admonition  of  a  judicious  friend.  Minervas  are 
sometimes  found  among  school-girls,  and  we  should  be 
assiduously  anxious,  as  well  to  secure  their  healthy  com- 
panionship, as  to  prevent  those  intimacies  which  selfishly 
ignore  but  the  favored  one — maintaining  like  the  Jewish 
rabbi,  '.'if  there  are  but  two  wise  persons  in  the  world, 
my  son  and  I  are  the  two." 

Suffer  two  silly,  indiscreet  girls  to  become  intimate, 
and  they  will  be  icebergs  to  the  rest  of  the  school.  They 
must  sit  side  by  side  in  the  study  room,  in  juxtaposition 
at  the  table,  go  arm  in  arm  to  Church,  linger  far  behind 
the  rest  in  walking,  showing  in  every  thing  an  exclus- 
iveness  that  becomes  exceedingly  offensive  to  others. 
Finally,  an  explosion  takes  place,  and  a  multitude  of 
others  are  set  on  fire  by  the  revelation  of  sarcastic  re- 
marks, aside  communications,  and  betrayals  of  confidence. 

The  opposite  of  this  is  found  in  the  noble  friendships 
of  the  large-hearted,  who  can  love  each  other  dearly  and 
still  be  just  to  others.  True  as  the  needle  to  the  pole, 
each  may  be  the  cynosure  of  the  other,  and  yet  shed  an 
ever-beaming  light  upon  all  who  come  within  the  circle 
of  her  perpetual  revolutions.  The  united  aims  of  two 
such  may  be  to  promote  the  interest  and  happiness  of 


474  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

others  without  impairing  their  inexpressible  tenderness 
and  devotion  to  each  other. 

There  is  nothing  like  school  life — nothing  that  could 
take  the  place  of  its  reminiscences.  Other  memories 
may  fade,  these  brighten  with  the  lapse  of  time,  and  even 
to  the  latest  hour  of  life,  amid  the  fondest  scenes  of  rec- 
ollection a  classmate's  is  still  the  most  eloquent  face  to 
be  casually  encountered.  Where  do  we  find  so  great  a 
variety  presented  as  in  the  shifting  panorama  of  its  every- 
day life?  The  amiable  and  the  peevish,  the  thoughtful 
and  the  reckless;  the  tender,  so  ready  to  receive  impres- 
sions that  scarcely  a  sound  falls  unheeded;  and  the  obdu- 
rate, over  whose  conscience  every  admonition  glides  like 
raindrops  from  polished  steel;  and  again,  trusting,  suscep- 
tible spirits  of  whom  a  teacher  loves  to  jthink  as  having 
been  drawn  out  and  beautifully  developed  under  the 
myriad-handed  genius  of  industry. 

Now  softly  gliding  into  view  comes  Barbara  Thruston, 
with  her  quiet  face,  and  "stature  small  but  firmly  knit." 
There  was  a  serenity  and  composure  of  manner  not  com- 
mon in  young  girls  which  gave  the  impression  of  dignity, 
and  rendered  her  prepossessing  upon  first  acquaintance.. 
A  more  intimate  knowledge  of  her  character  showed  that 
the  neat  little  casket  contained  a  gem  that  would  amply 
repay  the  educator's  care. 

There  seemed  a  slight  dash  of  haughtiness  in  the 
curve  of  her  closed  lips — a  look  of  quiet  decision  and 
fixedness  of  purpose  that  made  me  fear  there  might  be 
some  trouble  in  bending  her  will  to  the  strictness  of  our 
regulations.  But  this  was  only  imaginary;  she  was  re- 
ticent from  sheer  timidity,  and  though  possessing  firmness 
of  purpose  and  strength  of  character,  she  never  for  a 
moment  lost  her  serene  repose  of  manner  nor  departed 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  475 

from  that  quiet  demeanor  which  so  well  became  her. 
Under  the  drooping  lids  of  the  young  girl,  there  were 
soul-lit  eyes  sparkling  with  good  humor,  of  which  there 
was  a  rich  store  hid  beneath  the  surface  and  appearing 
on  all  proper  occasions;  while  an  earnest  desire  for 
knowledge  led  her  to  love  school,  conform  to  its  regula- 
tions, and  respect  her  teachers. 

Many  pleasant  recollections  are  connected  with  Louis- 
ville, from  whence  I  received  much  of  my  early  patron- 
age. There  are  households  in  that  city  where  cultivated 
taste,  united  with  the  more  vigorous  facilities  of  the 
understanding,  governs  and  controls  the  family,  and  where 
now  is  found  a  presiding  genius  who  once  formed  a  part 
of  the  family  circle  of  their  school. 

Five  daughters  of  our  much  esteemed  and  life-long 
friends,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Samuel  K.  Richardson,  were  among 
my  pupils.  Four  of  them  yet  live,  presiding  over  homes 
where  the  stranger  and  the  friend  can  repose  with  de- 
light; one  has  gone  to  her  celestial  home,  to  reap  the 
reward  of  a  useful  life.  The  oldest,  and  first  that  came 
to  us,  was  lovely  and  beloved,  and  always  exerted  a 
happy  influence  over  her  companions. 

She  is  now  a  grandmother,  and  has  beautifully  fulfilled 
all  the  requisitions  of  a  noble  woman.  Time  has  touched 
her  so  lightly  as  to  leave  only  the  graceful  traces  of 
maturer  womanhood. 

Among  the  many  friends  and  patrons  of  Science  Hill 
Mr.  David  Thornton  occupies  a  prominent  place.'  This 
excellent  man  was  a  fountain  head  of  social  and  religious 
life  in  the  community  in  which  he  dwelt.  Just  in  all  his 
actions,  faithful  in  all  his  words,  he  pursued  the  even 
tenor  of  his  course,  and,  dying  in  the  triumphs  of  a  victo- 
rious faith,  he  left  behind  him  the  remembrance  of  his 


476  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

virtues  and  bequeathed  to  his  children  the  inheritance  of 
of  an  unstained  name. 

Our  well-beloved  pupil,  Hontas  Thornton,  his  daughter, 
yet  lives  to  exemplify  the  fact  that  a  moral  and  religious 
training  brightens  the  intellectual  faculties  and  fits  us  for 
a  higher  state  of  existence.  She  was  always  cheerful, 
but  never  boisterous,  and  her  sparking  wit  never  degen- 
erated into  asperity.  She  knew  that  human  happiness  is 
founded  upon  wisdom  and  virtue,  and  by  these  she 
seemed  to  be  guided  in  all  her  aspirations.  But  "time 
would  fail  to  me  to  tell  of  Gideon  and  of  Barak  and  of 
Samson  and  of  Jephthah,  of  David  also  and  Samuel  and 
of  the  prophets." 

As  I  do  not  pretend  to  write  a  regular,  connected 
history,  I  shall  certainly  not  challenge  criticism  by  intro- 
ducing link  after  link  of  the  family  circle,  as  well  as  so 
many  marked  and  characteristic  illustrations  of  young 
persons  figuring  at  different  intervals  as  pupils  in  my 
school. 

My  only  living  daughter,  and  the  last  but  one  of  seven 
children,  was  in  truth  a  great  joy  to  the  family  circle. 
Cherished  by  a  host  of  tender  relatives,  she  learned  even 
in  babyhood  to  feel  her  importance.  I  prayed  most 
earnestly  that  she  might  be  permitted  to  live  and  "walk 
as  an  angel  by  my  side  "  through  life's  journey.  And 
though  I  trembled  lest  the  cup  of  my  earthly  joy  might 
overflow,  I  felt  a  sweet  assurance  that  He  who  inspired 
the  wish  would  grant  the  request.  Submitting  all  to  the 
divine  will,  I  did  not  ask  for  riches,  nor  grandeur,  nor 
beauty,  nor  fame,  nor  worldly  position  for  this  dear  child, 
but  I  asked  of  the  Lord  that  she  might  be  good  and 
useful  in  this  world,  and  hereafter  dwell  with  the  saints 
in  glory. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  477 

I  began  early  to  weave  the  net  of  education  of  fibers 
as  fine  as  the  gossamer,  which  were  in  time  to  become 
stronger  than  tempered  steel,  praying  all  the  while  that 
the  light  of  a  true  Christian  faith  should  irradiate  her 
intellectual  attainments,  giving  them  a  brighter  luster. 

This  newly  opened  page  of  life  I  contemplated  with  a 
pleasure  that  caused  a  flood-tide  of  affection  to  be  poured 
upon  the  little  girl,  and  filled  my  mind  with  a  repose  in 
the  enjoyment  of  the  present  that  shut  out  all  fears  for 
the  future.  She  was  impulsive.  The  simplicity  and  in- 
genuousness of  her  emotions  were  manifested  in  her 
expressive  features  with  such  transparency  that  her 
thoughts  were  known  even  before  she  was  conscious  of 
their  existence.  She  was  a  happy  child,  enjoying  the 
present  and  never  speculating  upon  the  future,  living  on 
from  hour  to  hour  amid  the  sweet  surroundings  of  home 
life  like  a  bird  or  a  blossom,  unconscious  that  darker 
days  might  ever  come. 

I  thought  I  could  discover  intellect  in  her  glance — 
what  mother  does  not? — even  in  early  childhood.  Her 
large,  wide-open  eyes  brightened  at  every  fresh  object, 
and  her  desire  to  learn  was  exhibited  in  a  curiosity  to 
know  and  to  understand.  Her  questions  were  always 
answered,  and  the  warm  and  rapid  thoughts  of  her  soul 
were  nurtured  into  life  under  the  ardent  solicitude  and 
affectionate  care  of  her  instructors.  An  only  daughter  is 
generally  the  synonym  for  spoiled  child.  To  prevent 
this  she  was  under  the  strictest  domestic  control,  and 
grew  up  under  the  same  discipline  as  her  school-fellows, 
being  neither  rocked  in  the  cradle  of  indulgence  nor  fed 
on  lilies. 

A  constant  effort  was  made  to  rear  her  in  the  nurture 
and  admonition  of  the  Lord.  Belle  had  from  childhood 


478  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

a  ready  flow  of  language,  and  knew,  as  if  by  instinct, 
\vhere  to  place  the  emphasis  in  her  pathetic  harangues 
for  peace  and  pardon,  after  having  violated,  even  with 
Solomon's  injunctions  before  her  eyes,  any  of  those  early 
taught  habits  of  order,  neatness,  and  obedience. 

My   Heavenly   Father,   in   his   goodness,  still  spares 
her — a  comfort  to  my  declining  years. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  479 


CHAPTER  XLI. 

DAYS  and  months  have  slipped  by  almost  impercepti- 
bly since  I  closed  the  preceding  chapter,  intending 
to  finish  my  book  with  a  concluding  summary.  I  had  not 
thought  to  defer  it  so  long,  but  time  passes  quickly  with 
us  as  we  approach  the  evening  of  life.  I  remember  when 
it  was  different.  Had  I  been  told  the  first  twenty  years 
of  my  life  would  seem  the  longest  portion  of  it  I  should 
have  doubted ;  but  now,  when  the  evening  comes,  and 
the  day's  work  is  nearly  over,  it  seems  but  a  short  space 
since  I  entered  upon  its  duties  and  its  responsibilities. 

January  8,  1870.  Just  fifty  years  ago  I  began  my 
career  as  a  teacher,  and  have  continued  with  but  little 
interruption,  —  no  rest  from  duties  save  in  the  vacations. 

When  the  light  of  the  sun  grows  dim  upon  my  fading 
eyes,  when  the  fountains  of  life  are  low,  when  the  frosts 
of  age  descend  upon  my  feeble  frame,  then  through  the 
halls  of  memory,  like  the  "still,  sweet  strains  of  music 
far  away,"  will  come  tender  recollections  of  the  happy 
throngs  that  have  hearkened  to  my  instructions.  The 
grateful  remembrance  of  those  for  whom  I  have  patiently 
and  zealously  toiled  casts  a  halo  of  light  over  life's  de- 
cline, soothes  the  infirmities  of  age  and  kindles  upon  the 
altar  of  my  heart  a  purer  love  for  the  human  race.  Each 
pupil,  whom  by  advice  or  encouragement  I  prompted  to 
nobler  aims  or  urged  to  higher  attainments,  is  a  gem  in 
my  casket  of  more  worth  than  the  treasures  of  the  deep 
blue  sea. 


480  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

Twilight  is  deepening  gradually  about  me;  no  evil 
bodings  disturb  the  tranquillity  of  my  closing  days.  My 
heart  throws  off  link  after  link  of  this  world's  bondage, 
and  the  soul,  losing  its  sternness  and  the  keen  excite- 
ments of  a  busy  life,  is  becoming  subdued  as  a  child's. 

I  can  not  forget  my  early  dreamings  and  youth's 
cherished  associations;  they  still  come  thronging  back 
like  sad  angels,  and  my  spirit  reaches  yearningly  after 
the  good  and  true  whom  I  knew  long  ago.  But  I  think 
more  of  the  unseen  world  towards  which  I  am  so  rapidly 
borne,  and  of  the  mysteries  of  eternity. 

Long  years  of  toil  and  care  have  not  weakened  my 
interest  in  the  advancement  of  science  and  the  budding- 
growth  of  mind.  I  have  watched  the  dawning  intellect, 
and  rejoiced  in  the  prospective  usefulness,  of  thousands. 
I  wish  to  impress  as  deeply  as  possible  the  result  of 
my  observations  and  experience  upon  those  who  will 
follow  me. 

Teaching,  when  pursued  with  a  strong  conviction  of 
the  value  of  the  immortal  soul,  becomes  a  high  and  holy 
work.  The  good  begun  on  earth,  the  seed  sown  in  its 
few  fleeting  years,  will  yield  fruit  divine  in  heaven. 
"They  that  sow  in  tears  shall  reap  in  joy," — and  come 
up  before  the  eternal  throne  rejoicing,  bringing  their 
sheaves  with  them. 

Notwithstanding  the  apparent  monotony  of  a  teacher's 
life,  it  is  made  up  of  varied  and  shifting  scenes.  A  thou- 
sand nameless  cares  and  perplexities  sweep  over  us  at 
times,  quenching  like  a  flood  every  ray  of  hope.  Wearied 
with  the  more  than  thread-bare  round  of  duties,  and  with 
the  captious  and  incorrigible  conduct  of  juvenile  delin- 
quents, discouraged  by  the  indifference  or  ingratitude  of 
parents,  we  almost  despair  of  accomplishing  any  good, 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  481 

and  sometimes,  weighed  down  by  anxiety,  exhausted  by 
labor  or  depressed  by  indisposition,  we  would  gladly  fly 
from  the  school-room,  never  again  to  enter  its  confines. 
But  this  is  the  result  of  that  occasional  ennui  to  which 
the  most  devoted  and  eminent  teachers  are  subject. 
.  These  dark  clouds  of  discouragement  will  presently 
be  chased  away  by  the  sunlight  of  promise  and  joy,  and 
leave  us  under  an  open  sky  of  cheerfulness  and  serenity 
that  "lets  in  blue  banner-gleams  of  heaven." 

With  a  proper  arrangement  of  duties  and  recreations 
a  healthy  tone  of  body  and  mind  may  be  maintained, 
and  the  teacher  live  to  possess  and  enjoy  the  fruits  of  his 
labor.  The  intervals  of  relaxation  are  enjoyed  by  him 
with  a  zest  greater  than  is  known  in  other  conditions  of 
life.  When  he  goes  forth  from  his  dusty  desks  and  per- 
plexing problems,  the  very  trees  seem  to  lift  their  verdant 
crowns  and  bend  in  salutation  to  him,  and  the  flowers 
send  sweet  invisible  messages  to  greet  his  delighted 
senses.  The  whole  garb  of  nature  seems  dyed  afresh  in 
emerald  tints,  and  the  balmy  gale  breathes  into  his  sin- 
ews new  strength.  There  is  a  precious  reward  for  him 
in  the  pure,  untainted  affection  bestowed  upon  him  by 
ingenuous  hearts,  unpracticed  in  the  deceptive  arts  of 
maturer  years.  His  young  pupils  come  to  greet  him 
each  morning  with  light  hearts  and  bounding  steps;  the 
little  grievances  and  asperities  of  yesterday's  births  are 
lost  in  the  oblivion  of  the  night's  repose,  and  they  come 
with  faces  radiant  with  kind  regard  and  good  intentions. 
The  faithful  instructor  feels  that  he  bears  no  unimportant 
part  in  the  grand  drama  of  human  affairs.  He  is  training 
the  immortal  mind,  and  even  in  some  degree  influencing 
the  eternal  destinies  of  the  soul. 

The  standard  of  scholarship  for  girls  is  undoubtedly 


482  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

much  higher  in  this  country  to-day  than  it  was  fifty 
years  ago ;  and  teachers  of  experience  and  more  extended 
information  are  needed  for  their  training.  Hence  he  who 
aspires  to  be  successful  in  this  vocation  must  be  up  and 
doing,  not  content  to  sit  by  the  roadside  an  uninterested 
spectator  while  the  grand  procession  moves  on ;  he  must 
fall  into  the  line  and  march.  He  must  keep  up  with 
new  books  and  new  systems.  The  mind  of  a  teacher 
must  be  a  fountain,  not  a  reservoir  of  knowledge,  —  the 
pure  stream  must  gush  from  the  overflowing  depths  of 
his  own  being,  not  be  drawn  up  with  rope  and  bucket 
from  the  moss-grown  wells  of  antiquity  alone.  His  own 
spirit  must  be  breathed  into  the  worn  text-book,  and  its 
hidden  characters  made  to  glow  with  new  meaning. 

It  can  not  be  too  forcibly  impressed  upon  the  mind 
of  a  teacher,  in  his  efforts  for  success,  that  the  duty  of 
habitually  and  systematically  caring  for  the  health  of 
pupils  should  be  rigidly  fulfilled.  When  the  hours  allot- 
ted to  the  duties  of  the  school-room  are  over  the  seasons 
set  apart  for  recreation  should  not  be  infringed  upon. 
The  urgent  necessity  for  physical  exercise  and  mental 
relaxation  must  be  apparent  to  all. 

There  is  nothing  in  the  life  of  a  teacher,  when  thus 
properly  regulated,  that  needs  be  prejudicial  to  health 
or  longevity. 

I  have  referred  to  a  time  when,  owing  to  the  constant 
self-imposed  strain  upon  mind  and  body,  my  health  so 
utterly  failed  that  I  was  compelled  to  pause  in  a  career 
hitherto  happily  successful,  and  use  every  available 
means  for  my  restoration.  After  that  a  part  of  every 
vacation  was  invariably  spent  in  seeking  recreation, — 
sojourning  sometimes  amid  mountain  scenery,  sometimes 
upon  the  sea -shore,  or  at  some  quiet  watering-place, 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  483 

among  cheerful  friends  and  agreeable  surroundings. 
When  I  left  home  I  left  all  care  behind  me,  and  sought 
only  enjoyment.  The  result  was,  renewed  energy  and 
health. 

Science  Hill  is  now  the  center  of  my  thoughts  and 
the  subject  of  my  daily  prayers.  Many  a  pure  joy  has 
blossomed  here. .  For  more  than  fifty  years  I  have  lived 
and  worked  in  this  spot  hallowed  by  a  thousand  tender- 
est  associations. 

For  its  advertising  the  institution  has  depended  to  a 
great  extent  upon  the  friendly  interest  of  its  pupils,  hav- 
ing but  seldom  published  in  the  newspapers.  The  living 
stream  grows  wider  as  it  flows  onward,  and  in  not  a  few 
instances  we  find  in  its  catalogues  three  successive  gen- 
erations of  the  same  name  and  blood. 

The  internal  economy  of  the  school  is  not  unlike  that 
of  a  well-ordered  college. 

Our  school  has  grown  up,  like  a  tree,  by  slow  and 
gradual  increase.  The  wise  and  patient  system  of  finan- 
cial economy  pursued  under  the  direction  of  my  husband 
gradually  increased  our  prosperity,  and  gave  ample  op- 
portunity of  supplying  all  the  helps  requisite  for  our 
success. 

The  enthusiastic  regard  and  reverence  which  our 
pupils  entertained  for  Mr.  Tevis  is  the  highest  encomium 
which  could  be  paid  him.  They  feared  him,  but  not 
half  so  much  as  they  loved  him;  they  knew  that  he  was 
their  friend — great-hearted  and  true. 

It  would  seem  that  his  manifold  labors  as  a  minister 
of  the  Gospel  were  enough  to  exhaust  the  energies 
of  any  ordinary  man.  But  in  the  midst  of  these  he  gave 
much  of  his  time  to  teaching,  besides  attending  closely 
to  the  business  affairs  of  the  school.  Whatever  his  hand 


JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

found  to  do  he  did,  never  deferring  till  to-morrow  what 
should  be  done  to-day.  He  found  time  to  pray  with  the 
sick  and  dying  and  to  attend  to  the  wants  of  the  poor 
always.  The  Bible  was  his  guide  in  this  respect  as  in 
all  others. 

During  his  life  there  went  forth  more  than  two 
thousand  who  had  knelt  under  the  hallowed  influence 
of  his  prayers  and  treasured  up  his  words  seasoned  by 
divine  grace — for  he  was  taught  of  God.  Many  of  these 
yet  live  and  come  often  to  revisit  the  place  where  once 
they  listened  with  reverential  attention  to  the  teachings 
of  its  patron  saint.  They  gather  like  children  about  an 

old  home — 

*. 

"Returning  from  life's  weariness,  tumult,  and  pain, 
Rejoiced  in  their  hearts  to  be  school-girls  again." 

Their  kindly  visits  make  many  a  green  spot  in  the 
Wintery  scenery  of  my  life. 

On  the  2$th  of  March,  1875,  we  celebrated  the  fiftieth 
anniversary  of  the  founding  of  Science  Hill  Female 
Academy.  I  subjoin  a  letter  published  in  the  Western 
Christian  Advocate,  as  also  a  communication  from  a  cor- 
respondent of  the  Shelby  Sentinel,  as  sufficiently  descrip- 
tive of  the  occasion, — 

A  TEACHER'S  SEMI-CENTENNIAL. 
[Western  Christian  Advocate.] 

The  Semi-centennial  of  Science  Hill  Academy  was  celebrated 
at  Shelbyville,  Kentucky,  March  25,  1875.  Mrs-  Julia  A-  Tevis, 
founder  of  this  far-famed  school,  and  its  principal  for  fifty  years, 
opened  her  house  on  that  day  to  welcome  her  old  pupils,  who, 
going  out  from  their  school-life,  have  been  scattered  over  more  than 
half  the  States  of  the  Union,  and  number  over  three  thousand 
persons.  Some  three  hundred  came,  representing  every  class  from 
1825  until  now.  Of  those  present  at  the  opening  of  the  school,  fifty 
years  ago,  but  four  are  now  living,  two  were  present — Mrs.  Agnes 
Ross  and  Mrs.  Martha  Redding.  Many  grandchildren  of  the  first 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  485 

pupils  are  now  in  the  school,  and  some  of  the  third  generation  are 
already  graduated.  It  was  a  scene  of  rare  interest  to  behold 
the  woman  of  more  than  threescore  years,  with  daughter  and 
granddaughter,  coming  to  greet  the  noble  woman  who  had  taught 
them  all.  Hundreds  of  congratulatory  letters  and  telegrams  were 
received  from  those  who  could  not  be  present  in  person.  An  old 
lady  of  Wytheville,  Virginia,  seventy  years  of  age,  writes  like  the 
school-girl  of  half  a  century  ago:  "I  know  Miss  Julia  Ann  would 
like  to  have  me  present  on  the  25th,  for  I  was  one  of  her  very  first 
pupils  in  the  little  school  of  fifty-five  years  ago." 

At  twelve  o'clock  the  parlors  were  thrown  open,  and  seated 
upon  a  dais  Mrs.  Julia  A.  Tevis,  the  venerable  founder  and  prin- 
cipal of  the  school,  received  the  congratulations  of  her  former 
pupils.  Thronging  memories  and  deep  emotions  stirred  her  inmost 
heart  at  the  sight  of  the  old  familiar  faces,  making  the  tax  upon  her 
physical  strength  severe,  yet  she  looked  as  well,  and  bore  up  as 
strongly  as  at  any  of  her  annual  class-days  of  later  years.  Five 
years  beyond  the  allotted  threescore  and  ten,  she  was  permitted 
still  to  be  actively  engaged  in  teaching,  looking  back  upon  fifty-five 
years  of  eminent  success  as  a  teacher,  fifty  of  which  were  spent  in 
this  school,  without  an  intermission  of  a  single  term. 

At  one  o'clock  the  spacious  dining-hall  was  thrown  open.  Rich 
viands  of  every  description  were  arranged  with  the  most  exquisite 
taste;  upon  several  tables  fruits  and  flowers  vied  with  each  other 
in  lending  charm  to  the  scene.  To  Mrs.  Dr.  Tevis  all  honor  is  due, 
who,  as  presiding  genius  of  the  feast,  made  us  both  glad  and  sorry, 
as  we  proved  our  full  appreciation  of  her  superior  taste  and  knowl- 
edge in  this  department. 

After  dinner  the  guests  repaired  to  the  Chapel.  Mrs.  Tevis 
occupied  a  seat  upon  the  rostrum,  with  Bishop  Foster  and  Bishop 
Kavanaugh  on  either  side.  Over  the  rostrum  were  hung  large  por- 
traits of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Tevis,  and  above  them,  in  evergreen,  the 
inscription,  "With  joy  we  greet  you."  Bishop  Kavanaugh  opened 
the  exercises  with  prayer.  Music,  vocal  and  instrumental,  was  ren- 
dered by  the  pupils  of  to-day.  After  a  short  address  by  Mr.  Beck- 
ham,  of  Shelbyville,  Bishop  Foster  spoke  for  twenty  minutes.  In 
concluding,  he  addressed  Mrs.  Tevis,  presenting  her  with  an  elegant 
gold  medal,  a  token  of  love  from  her  children.  It  was  a  scene  not 
to  be  forgotten. 

Mrs.  Tevis  addressed  the  audience  in  a  voice  which,  for  that 
occasion,  seemed  to  gather  its  power  of  twenty  years  ago.  She 
said,  "My  emotional  feelings,  combined  with  my  exhausted  strength 
prevent  me  from  taking  each  and  every  one  of  you  by  the  hand, 


486  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

and  bidding  you  farewell;  but  I  take  you  all  to  my  heart.  My  life- 
work  was  not  of  my  choosing.  I  followed  it  from  a  sense  of  duty 
until  I  learned  to  love  it.  All  has  been  done  with  an  eye  to  God's 
glory,  and  whatever  of  good  has  been  accomplished  has  been 
of  the  Lord." 

Mrs.  Speed,  daughter  of  Mrs.  Tevis,  read,  with  fine  effect,  "Sir 
Marmaduke's  Toast  to  his  Mother,"  after  which  Dr.  Speed  read  a 
beautiful  and  original  poem,  upon  the  same  subject.  The  closing 
exercises,  which  occupied  an  hour  and  a  half,  and  which  seemed 
all  too  brief,  passed  off  delightfully,  and  reluctantly  the  guests  pre- 
pared for  departure.  The  reunion  was  a  grand  success.  All  were 
"girls  again."  Snow-crowned  seventy  and  sweet  sixteen  mingled 
their  voices  in  merry  reminiscences  of  the  past  and  joyous  expecta- 
tion of  the  future,  all  uniting  with  one  accord  in  loving  homage  and 
admiration  of  her  who  for  more  than  half  a  century  has  devoted 
herself  to  the  advancement  and  ennobling  of  woman.  The  day 
was  one  of  unclouded  sunshine.  J.  D.  W. 

MEMORIES    OF   SCIENCE    HILL. 
[Special  Correspondence  Shelby  Sentinel.] 

The  morning  of  March  25th  dawned  bright  and  beautiful;  and 
how  vividly  it  brought  to  mind  a  bright  September  day,  thirty  years 
ago,  when  I  was  led  a  trembling  little  child,  into  the  presence  of  her, 
whose  invitation  brought  us  to  celebrate  the  fiftieth  anniversary  of 
Science  Hill. 

Old  memories,  how  thickly  they  crowded  upon  us !  We  forgot,  for 
awhile,  the  world,  its  joys  and  sorrows,  reviewed  the  scenes  of  other 
days,  and  wandered  hand  in  hand  with  companions  of  childhood's 
happy  hours.  Then,  the  world  with  all  'its  bright  allurements  was 
as  yet  a  vision  to  us;  ever  joyous  and  free,  we  danced  to  the  music 
of  our  own  glad  hearts,  and  gathered  the  blossoms  of  wisdom  and 
love  that  were  strewn  o'er  our  pathway  by  gentle  hands  and  lov- 
ing voices. 

The  shadows  and  sunshine  that  have  since  so  fitfully  chased 
each  other  have  each  left  some  impress  upon  our  hearts,  some 
remembrance  of  the  joys  and  hopes  that  may  come  to  us  no 
more,  but  serve  to  guide  our  wandering  footsteps  by  the  lessons  they 
have  taught. 

There  were  many  familiar  faces ;  some  who  started  with  us ; 
some  who  left  us  when  we  were  children,  but  alas !  how  many  absent. 

But  amid  all  the  changes — while  each  one  present  like  myself 
missed  some  dear  particular  friend — our  teacher  still  remains,  with 


SrxTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  487 

the  same  gentle  dignity  and  pleasant  smile  we  so  well  remember. 
Year  after  year  I  sat  beneath  her  counsel  and  heard  her  admonitions ; 
how  her  heart  seemed  to  yearn  over  us  before  the  commencement 
exercises  which  scattered  "our  class"  so  far  and  wide. 

Commencement!  yes,  of  duties, 

Of  the  many  braided  strands 
That  is  only  kept  from  tangle 

By  the  skill  of  woman's  hands — 
Of  waiting  days  and  watching, 

Of  long  unanswered  prayers; 
Beginning  of  life  in  earnest, 

With  its  thousand  joys  and  cares. 

Among  the  treasures  of  memory,  the  following  lines  from  her 
own  pen,  written  just  before  I  left  her,  have  been  particularly 
cherished. 

"I  dare  not  omit  the  opportunity  of  whispering  through  this 
silent  medium,  advice — advice  which  you  shall  in  coming  life  per- 
chance look  upon,  and,  in  so  doing,  remember  one  who  always 
loved  you,  and  most  heartily  desires  your  welfare,  and  who  would 
fain  shield  you  from  those"  storms  of  sorrow  incident  to  human  life — 
but  as  that  can  not  be,  let  me  in  loving  earnestness  admonish  you  to 
place  your  standard  of  moral  excellence  as  high  as  the  Scriptures 
direct.  Take  the  Word  of  God  for  your  counsel,  and  seek  earnestly 
to  keep  the  witness  of  the  Holy  Spirit  as  a  testimony  of  your  accept- 
ance— and  its  enlightening  assurance  that  you  are  striving  to  please 
God.  Live,  as  it  were,  in  sight  of  Calvary — at  the  foot  of  the  Cross, 
and  though  you  may  find  thorns  enough  in  life's  pathway,  yet  there 
are  sometimes  lilies  and  roses  to  be  gathered  in  its  highways  and 
hedges.  The  eye  of  your  Heavenly  Father  will  be  ever  on  you  for 
good  if  you  are  faithful  to  your  duty,  and  the  loving  Savior  will 
never  leave  nor  forsake  thee!  Be  grateful  for  the  blessings  you  do 
enjoy,  and  have  enjoyed,  and  hopefully,  prayerfully  trust  for  what  is 
yet  to  come." 

The  thorns  have  been  many  and  hard  to  bear,  but  the  lilies  and 
roses  have  blossomed  all  along  the  way,  and  I  trust  her  counsel  for 
higher  aid  has  never  been  forgotten,  and  now  that  many  years  have 
passed,  I  would  come  again  as  a  little  child  to  bring  this  tribute  of  a 
grateful  heart  thankful  for  all  her  tender  ministries — for  words  of 
love  and  gentleness  and  truth,  for  longings  after  a  higher  and  purer 
womanhood,  and  above  all,  for  the  example  of  a  life  whose  influence 
can  never  be  measured,  and  whose  reward  can  only  be  meted  by 
the  Hand  from  whom  all  blessings  flow. 


488  JULIA  A.  TEVIS. 

As  the  noonday  of  her  life  has  been  made  bright  by  Heaven's 
smiling  approbation,  may  many  years  and  blessings  be  added  to  her 
old  age,  and  the  evening  of  her  life  be  crowned  with  the  loving  kind- 
ness of  a  gracious  Providence  ? 

January  26,  1861,  at  the  age  of  sixty-nine,  my  hus- 
band was  permitted  to  rest  forever  from  his  labors!  "He 
giveth  his  beloved  sleep." 

"God  moves  in  a  mysterious  way." 

How  difficult  is  it  to  recognize  in  the  death  of  a  cher- 
ished son  just  entering  upon  life's  duties  with  noble 
purposes — the  idol  of  home,  the  pride  of  the  social  circle, 
holding  all  hearts  by  a  magic  chain — the  loving  hand  of 
a  kind  Father!  Ah!  when  Rachel  weeps  for  her  children, 
who  shall  comfort  her  desolate  heart?  His  name  was 
interwoven  with  the  interests  and  affections  of  all  hearts 
in  the  little  world  of  Shelbyville.  All  knew  and  loved 
"John  Tevis, "  all  hearts  were  clouded  when  he,  the 
young  and  strong,  was  laid  low. 

Who  shall  say  it  is  easy  to  utter  the  submissive, 
"Thy  will  be  done" — easy  to  drink  the  bitter  cup  prof- 
fered to  the  lips?  yet  the  souls  chastened  by  that  mighty 
hand  do  find  consolation.  This  dear  young  man  "had, 
from  a  child,  known  the  Holy  Scriptures,"  which,  as  I 
believe,  "made  him  wise  unto  salvation,  through  faith  in 
Christ  Jesus."  He  was  conscientious,  truthful,  simple- 
hearted,  and  high  in  purpose.  He  loved  God  and 
"opened  his  hand  wide  to  his  brother"  distressed.  He 
seemed  to  know  intuitively  when  he  met  the  needy,  that 
they  were  objects  for  his  help  and  ready  sympathy. 

This  fair  young  life  was  cut  off  from  the  earth  in  its 
flushing  grace  and  beauty,  just  two  weeks  before  his 
father.  He  escaped  the  chastenings  of  the  weary  three- 
score years  and  ten  allotted  as  the  pilgrimage  of  many. 


SIXTY  YEARS  IN  A  SCHOOL-ROOM.  489 

"As  for  man,  his  days  are  as  grass."  "But  the  mercy 
of  the  Lord  is  from  everlasting  to  everlasting,  upon  them 
that  fear  him." 

"Stricken,  smitten,  and  afflicted,"  now,  we  shall 
know  hereafter  why  we  were  called  to  "pass  under  the 
rod."  My  son  "sleeps  well,"  and  I  shall  one  day  see 
him  arrayed  in  the  glorious  image  of  the  dear  risen 
Christ.  Amen!  So  let  it  be! 

Thus  sorrowful  bereavements  have  swept  away  many 
of  my  heart's  brightest  jewels.  One  by  one  my  early 
friends  have  dropped  into  the  grave,  and  the  outer  world 
is  changed  around  me;  but  the  heart  does  not  grow  old 
while  its  life-blood  beats  in  loving  sympathy  with  those 
who  are  left  still  clinging  to  the  household  tree.  As  one 
object  is  removed,  the  severed  tendril  takes  hold  upon 
another.  Strange  fondness  of  the  human  heart,  that 
makes  us  covet  length  of  days  for  the  sake  of  those 
we  love! 

My  life  seems  fast  slipping  away,  but  its  purposes  are 
being  accomplished  by  that  good  and  gracious  Providence 
which  has  guided  me  all  along  the  journey.  I  regard 
length  of  days  a  blessing,  and  desire  to  live  for  the  sake 
of  those  who  are  left  on  earth ;  indulging  always  the  glo- 
rious anticipation  of  a  reunion  with  the  departed  ones, 
which  anticipation  gives  to  this  life  all  its.  unity,  peace, 
and  hope. 


FINIS. 


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from  which  it  was  borrowed. 


REC'D  LD-URi. 
MAR171996 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000  691  536     7 


